Raising Pirates
by FeliksLukasiewicz00
Summary: Arthur is one of the most skilled pirates on the seven seas, many people fear him, and he is a very notorious and wanted criminal by many countries. While living on the sea, he teaches his young boys everything he knows about crew life, being a good captain, and being a successful pirate. (Rated T for violence and pirate swearing)
1. Prologue

Prologue

Francis was still kind of getting used to pirate life. He'd been aboard _The Raven_ for just under a month, and he was somehow the First Mate. It didn't make much sense to him, although Captain Kirkland did say that it was because how outspoken he was. In the military, all of the backtalk would've gotten him in trouble. So, after about a month, Francis was the First Mate. That's fine, he could handle it, as long as Kirkland didn't die anytime soon.

To be truthful, Francis was a little scared of Arthur Kirkland. Being in the French Navy for so long, he's heard stories about the Kirkland name. How ruthless and merciless Arthur Kirkland could be to his enemies and his crew, but he didn't really seem it. From living on Kirkland's ship, Francis had observed the kindness that he had to most of his crew, and the loyalty and respect he gave each of them. Arthur was a simple man, if you respect him, he'll respect you, if you disrespect him, he'll disrespect you. Out of all things Arthur Kirkland was, he wasn't abusive like the rumors Francis had once heard. Kirkland allowed everyone to speak their minds on his ship, in fact, he encouraged it, for Arthur didn't know everything. Reasons like that is why Francis was currently the First Mate. But, Francis couldn't say that all of the past information that he was given was false rumors, he had seen Arthur in battle, and was pretty merciless. Then again, he _was_ a pirate.

But, they weren't in battle, so Francis had nothing to worry about. Actually, they weren't even on the sea. They were on land, in the Caribbean. Francis and Arthur were carrying the last two boxes of supplies through the streets, and to _The Raven_. Ahead of him, he saw Arthur slow to a stop, staring down an alley. The captain turned and looked at his surroundings before he jogged off in the direction of his ship. Francis picked up his pace, following the young captain.

" _Capitaine_ , is there something wrong?" Francis asked as the two ran up the ramp and onto Arthur's ship.

"I need to go and get something." Arthur said, quickly setting the box down and running off. "Follow me, Bonnefoy."

Francis did the same as Arthur, setting down his box and running after him. "What exactly are you getting?"

"I saw two boys in the alleyway, I'm making sure that they're alright." Arthur panted, not slowing his pace.

Francis narrowed his eyes at the Brit. Arthur was a ruthless pirate, and he was concerned about two boys? This didn't add up. Although Francis knew that Arthur cared about and respected his crew, he didn't expect Arthur to care so much about two random boys. He didn't seem like the kind of man who would check on two random orphans on the street.

Arthur made a quick, sharp turn into an alley and immediately stopped, Francis doing the same, almost running into him. Francis moved around Arthur so he could see the seemingly dead boys lying on the ground. "Are they dead?" Francis asked.

Arthur shook his head, getting down onto his knees. "No, they'd be pale if they were dead. Look," He said, pointing at one of the boys faces, "they're faces are flushed, they must be sick."

Francis bent down next to the other boy, putting his hand on the child's cheek. "It's feels like this one has a fever."

"This one too." Arthur added, taking his hand off of the other child's cheek.

Francis watched as Arthur tried waking the boy lying in front of him. "Wake up." Arthur ordered, "Come on, wake up, you're fever can't be that bad."

Francis began doing the same to the other boy, shaking him lightly. "Wake up, please. You don't feel too warm, wake up." After enough effort, Francis heard a soft groan come in Arthur's direction.

"There you go," Arthur said to the blonde who was shifting slightly on the ground.

"Huh?" The boy croaked, looking up at Arthur.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked.

"Who?" The boy responded.

Francis saw Arthur give the short blonde a smile. "I'm Arthur. What's your name?"

The boy stared up at Arthur. "Where's Mattie?"

Francis looked down at the child in his arms. What this Mattie? Who knows? "Is this him?" Francis asked.

The boy looked over slowly and nodded.

"Hey, what's your name?" Arthur asked again.

"Alfred."

"Alfred," Arthur echoed, "a wonderful name. Can you tell me where your parents are?"

"Don't have any." Alfred replied softly, closing his eyes. "Tired."

Francis looked up to Arthur, wondering exactly what he had in mind. The captain was staring down at the short blonde in his arms with a sad expression, he almost looked like he was about to cry. This was a side of Arthur that Francis had never seen before. " _Capitaine?_ " Francis asked, "Are you alright?"

Without a word, Arthur stood, holding the boy in his arms. "Does that one have a pulse?" He questioned, nodding his head to the child in Francis' arms.

Francis looked down, put three fingers on the side of the blonde's neck, and felt a slow pulse. "A slow one."

Arthur nodded at him. "Pick him up and follow me."

Francis followed Kirkland's orders, doing what he was told. " _Capitaine,_ what exactly are we doing?"

"Saving two lives." Arthur stated.

Francis looked over to Arthur, who had begun running his fingers through the young boy's hair. "Not that I'm against helping those in need, but why? I mean, this is very random."

"These two are so young, and already dying. I don't want to see these two denied life." Arthur answered.

Francis could understand that, who wouldn't want to help a child in need? "Still seems a little random, but okay." He mumbled to himself.

They walked up the ramp, onto the main deck and started walking to Arthur's quarters. Francis looked around the deck, wondering what people were thinking.

"What the hell?" Francis heard behind him.

Francis looked over to see Alistair staring at him and Arthur in confusion.

"I don't have time to explain, Kilt." Arthur snapped at the kilt-wearing Scot.

Alistair huffed and walked off, and Francis continued following Kirkland into his quarters and to Arthur's bed where he set down the young boy in his arms.

.

After tending to the boys for most of the night, which included helping Arthur give them a cold bath, they eventually lowered they boy's fever. So much so that they were both awake, although one didn't want to talk to either of them.

Francis glanced over to Arthur, who hadn't slept all night due to tending to the young boys. " _Capitaine,_ maybe you should get some sleep."

Arthur shook his head. "No, I need to watch over the boys."

"I can." Francis offered.

Arthur looked over to Francis. "No, you should get us sailing. I trust Kiku and all, but he shouldn't be doing everything around here."

"Wait, what do you mean get us sailing?" Francis exclaimed.

"You used to be a naval captain yourself, I know that you can pilot my ship."

Francis shook his head. "No, that's not what I'm worried about. It's just…" He trailed off, staring at the young boys, who were both still sick. He lowered his voice. "What are you planning on doing with them?"

Kirkland glanced over at the young boys, Alfred and Matthew, and stood up, walking away from his bed and to his desk. "I'm not exactly sure yet. I know I can't just leave them on the streets."

"We can put them in an orphanage." Francis suggested.

"Hell no," Arthur stated, "too dangerous, they'd get sick in a day."

Francis looked up to the ceiling, thinking of what else. There were only two other options. "We can leave them on somebody's doorstep?"

"Abandoning them?" Arthur added.

"That wouldn't be abandoning them, they'd be with a family."

Arthur shook his head, crossing his arms stubbornly. "No. Who knows if that house would be abusive, or neglectful. That could be the house of a murderer!"

"You're a murderer." Francis reminded.

Arthur gazed in the direction of the now sleeping children. "I just want them to be safe. Have a home with people who care about them and will protect them."

Francis stared at the young captain in confusion. Like before, he knew that Arthur Kirkland was a very dangerous, yet caring man. He knew that Arthur cared about life, and respected others, but he didn't expect Arthur to be so protective to this Alfred and Matthew, two orphaned boys.

"What?" Arthur exclaimed, and Francis realized that Arthur was now holding his stare.

"Nothing, _Capitaine_ , just…"

"Just what?" Arthur prompted.

Francis glanced to Matthew, who was shifting uncomfortably on Arthur's bed. "What are you planning on doing?"

Arthur sighed, closing his eyes. "I don't know if this is a good idea, but I'm thinking of keeping them here."

"Why? I could be dangerous." Francis argued.

Arthur turned and looked at the twins. "Yes, but I know that I will keep them safe. I won't let anything happen to them."

"This is so sweet of you to do this." Francis commented.

Arthur turned and scowled at Francis. "I'm not sweet."

Francis smirked playfully. "Are you sure? You seemed to take on quite the motherly role a while ago."

"Motherly?" Arthur snapped, glaring at him.

Francis' smile grew. " _Oui._ "

Arthur snorted. "I'm no mum."

"In all seriousness, _Capitaine_ , you already seem like a great father."

Arthur's body stiffened. "F-father?"

" _Oui_ ," Francis answered, "I mean, if you're going to keep them here, it sounds like you're adopting them."

Arthur straightened his posture. "I guess you're right, I am a father." He agreed before a fearful look appeared on his face as he put a hand to his forehead. "I'm a father."

Francis laughed. "It'll be fine, _Capitaine_ , you'll be great."

"N-n-no I won't!" Arthur exclaimed. "My father was horrible, I'll be just as bad! Maybe I shouldn't do this..."

"Oh, come on!" Francis reassured, "you can learn from your father's mistakes. What did he do that made him so horrible?"

Arthur froze, not even breathing. He shook his head, letting out a sigh. "Nothing, it doesn't matter."

" _Capitaine?_ " Francis asked in a concerned voice.

"I won't repeat the mistakes of my father." Arthur stated firmly, turning his head to the sleeping orphans.

"So you're keeping them?" Francis asked.

"Yes."

"Congratulations, Arthur, you're a father!" Francis cheered.

A simple smile appeared on Arthur's face. "I guess I am."

There was a silence, but Francis eventually remembered Arthur's order from a while ago. "I'll go get us sailing." Francis said, pointing at the door. "Where are we headed?"

Arthur shrugged. "Somewhere east."

"Somewhere east." Francis echoed, nodding his head and walking off.

* * *

 **The beginning of my newest story! Yay!**

 **(only one prologue, trust me on this)**

 **Anywho, I hope I caught your interest. The next chapter will pick up seven years later. (Matthew and Alfred are 3 now, will be 10 in Chapter 1)**

 _ **PIRATES!**_

 **~Feliks Out! (^J^)**


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

" _If told you that you're not alone,_

 _And I show you this is where you belong…"_

 _~"Unity" Shinedown_

.

A warm wind flew through the air, blowing back Matthew's long hair. He stood at the edge of the ship, smelling in the salty scent of the water below. The sun rose slowly on the horizon, painting the sky shades of orange and red. The waves rose and fell, rocking the large ship, that was Matthew's home, back and forth smoothly. The morning was peaceful, and Matthew could predict an easy and beautiful day. The only sound Matthew could hear was the waves crashing up against the ship, and the sound of the crew behind him working. But the morning's tranquility was shattered.

Out of nowhere, Alfred tackled him to the wooden floorboards of the deck, Matthew landing on his left side, directly on his shoulder.

"Morning, Mattie!" Alfred laughed in his ear.

Matthew pretended this wasn't happening. He laid there for a long moment, wondering if he ignored his brother, he'd go away. It didn't work. Alfred just stared at him, allowing his weight to slowly crush Matthew against the deck of _The Raven._ Matthew sighed. "Morning, Al."

With a giggle from his hyperactive twin, Matthew grunted as Alfred pushed against his right shoulder to help himself stand. Alfred then reached out a hand and helped Matthew stand. "Thank you." Matthew said, giving his brother a nod.

"So what were you doing?" Alfred asked.

"Staring at the sea." Matthew answered, locking his eyes back onto the mesmerizing waves.

Alfred laughed again. "You sound like Dad when you say that."

Matthew turned his attention to Alfred. "Why do you say that?"

"Dad's like, _in love_ with the ocean." Alfred over-exaggerated.

"He's not in love with the ocean!" Matthew argued.

Alfred shrugged. "Then why does he stare at it every morning?"

"Because it's beautiful?" Matthew suggested.

Alfred's face twisted in thought. "No, it has to be deeper than that…"

Matthew rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Al, let's just go get food."

"Food!" Alfred exclaimed before running off.

Matthew sighed with a smile before running after his twin, dodging the working crew on deck. He jogged down the stairs into the galley, where the smell of porridge filled the room. A few crew members stood in front of the cook, Yao, who was serving up a bowlful each. Matthew got in line behind his brother. The line moved, and both he and Alfred got their share of porridge, they said their thank you's, and walked off to a table to sit and eat.

Matthew saw Kiku sitting at a table by himself, so he and Alfred went walking in his direction. Kiku was very nice and quiet, but both he and Alfred were told of Kiku's quick swordfighting abilities. Although his ability to be cut-throat or rude, Kiku was very respectful and caring. It was a known fact that Kiku and Arthur got along well, some people would even say that they act like close brothers at times. Matthew and Alfred both grew up with Kiku as parental figure, just as they did with Arthur and Francis.

"Hey, Uncle Kiku!" Alfred exclaimed before sitting across from their black haired friend.

Matthew sat down next to Alfred. "Morning, Uncle Kiku."

"Good morning, boys." Kiku greeted with a smile as he continued eating.

"How do you say that in Japanese?" Alfred questioned, cocking his head to the right.

Kiku swallowed a bite of porridge "Say what?"

"Good morning." Alfred clarified.

"Oh, good morning would be _ohayou gozaimasu._ "

"That sounds really complicated." Alfred said.

Kiku chuckled. "People say that Japanese is one of the hardest languages to learn, but still not as hard as English."

"English isn't too hard." Matthew replied.

"English is your first language." Kiku countered, "it's my second language, and it was very difficult to learn."

"It was?" Alfred asked.

" _Hai._ " Kiku answered. "I'm actually still learning it."

Matthew cocked his head to the side. "You are?"

Kiku nodded, taking another bite of his porridge. "No one really ever knows the complete extent of their language before they die."

"I will." Alfred promised in a determined voice.

Matthew narrowed his eyebrows. "You always say stuff like that, but you never do."

"Name one time!" Alfred challenged with a mouthful of porridge.

Matthew rolled his eyes with a sigh. "You said that you _were_ going to climb to the top of the mast but you didn't."

"That's because Dad stopped me!" Alfred yelled.

Matthew shook his head. "No, it's because you got scared."

Alfred shot Matthew a glare. "No, I _don't_ get scared!"

Matthew rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

Kiku had a small, tiny amused smile on his lips before he stood to excuse himself. "I wish I could stay and watch this, but I have work I need to do."

"We understand, Uncle Kiku." Matthew said.

"Yeah, we understand." Alfred added.

Kiku began walking off, saying over his shoulder, "Have a good morning, boys."

"You two!" They both called to their uncle-like figure.

After Matthew and Alfred took their time eating their breakfast, they knew that there were morning chores that had to be done before afternoon training. The brothers played around and had kind conversation with pretty much anyone who entered the galley.

"Good morning, boys." A French accent greeted.

"Morning Francis!" They twins said in unison as they ran out of the galley and onto the main deck, where they immediately heard the sounds of their father yelling at Alistair, who was up in the nest. Matthew followed Alfred up to where their father stood, piloting the massive pirate ship that was _The Raven._

"Listen here, you fu-" Arthur silenced the curse that he was yelling and exclaimed, "boys! You're up early."

Matthew looked to the sun, then back to their blonde haired, green eyed father. "No we're not, we're actually late-"

"You don't have to tell him that!" Alfred yelled.

"So you're late?" Arthur accused.

"Well, we were up on time, but we got distracted by talking to people." Matthew explained.

Arthur nodded suspiciously. "Alright. Just go do your chores."

"Can we skip them for today?" Alfred asked.

Arthur narrowed his eyebrows. "And make everyone else do your work for you?"

Alfred hummed in thought for a moment. "Yeah, exactly."

Arthur shook his head, looking from his sons to the sea. "No, we all do our part on this ship. Which means you two need to do your chores."

"Oh, okay." Alfred whined.

"Go on," Arthur began, "the sooner you two do your chores, the sooner we get to have training."

Matthew and Alfred gasped in excitement and ran off to swap the main deck. "I'll swap the main deck, and you go clean with Yao!" Alfred ordered, "We can get done faster!"

"Good idea," Matthew replied, racing to the galley. He entered the galley, sprinting directly for the serving table, where Yao always is. "I'm here, sorry I'm late."

Yao narrowed his eyebrows for a moment, expressing his irritation, before he shrugged Matthew off. The brown haired cook waved Matthew over, who followed Yao's direction. Yao pointed at the dirty dishes that were piled up, instructing Matthew to clean them, although he didn't want to.

"Yes, Yao." Matthew sighed, walking over and grabbing the first dish. Yao paced off, probably to swap the galley floor. Yao was from China, and knew very little of the English language, which is why he didn't speak much. Yao couldn't speak English, although he could understand some of it. Most of what Yao knew was direct orders from Arthur.

Matthew spent about an hour cleaning in the galley with Yao. He finished the dishes, then helped Yao clean the floor, tables, and counters, before he was dismissed by the Chinese cook. When he was, he ran to the main deck to see what kind of progress that Alfred had made, which was a lot, surprisingly. Matthew's twin was nearly done, but Matthew did help him finish the last few parts before they put all the cleaning supplies away, and cleaned their area of Arthur's quarters.

They ran up to Arthur, who was having a debate with Francis at the time. "We're done!" Alfred announced loudly.

Arthur turned to them, staring down at them suspiciously. "You did everything?"

"Yes," Matthew promised, "Alfred swapped the deck, I helped Yao, and then we cleaned our quarters and made our bed."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "That was fast."

"Well we divided and conquered." Alfred explained.

"Francis," Arthur began, getting the French blonde's attention, "pilot the ship, I'm going to go make sure they're not lying."

"Yes, _Capitaine_." Francis replied, sarcastically saluting him.

"How have you been, Francis?" Matthew asked, tilting his head to the side.

"I'm well, you?"

"We were working all morning!" Alfred exclaimed.

Francis laughed. "Yes, very hard work, too."

Alfred smiled. "Finally, someone gets me."

Francis laughed in reply. "Well, I'm glad to be the only one who understands." The ex-French naval captain turned his head to Matthew. "How have you been?"

"Like Al said, working pretty hard, but besides that, I'm good." Matthew gave Alfred a look, "But unlike Al, I don't complain about my work every time."

"I don't complain that much!" Alfred argued.

Matthew nodded slowly. "Yes you do."

"You lie!" Alfred yelled, pointing in Matthew's face. "You see, Francis, he's lying!"

Matthew rolled his eyes at his brother. "I'm not lying, whether or not you accept it, Al, you complain."

Francis laughed. "You two know how to start a morning off right, don't you?"

Alfred tilted his head to the right. "What do you mean?"

"Bickering," Francis stated simply, "you two are definitely brothers."

Matthew and Alfred glanced at each other. "We know." They said simultaneously.

There was a silence between the three of them. Francis focused on piloting Arthur's ship through the waters. The tide was rougher today than it has been all week, and Matthew wondered if there was going to be a storm soon. That's the only thing that he disliked about living on the sea like he did. Storms, especially bad ones, were always so terrifying. With some storms, it would take the strength of Arthur, Francis, and Kiku to control the wheel of the ship, or so Matthew's heard. He's never seen Arthur pilot _The Raven_ through a storm, he was always in Arthur's quarters or below deck. Matthew was pulled out of his thoughts at the sound of Arthur walking up.

.

Arthur strode up the stairs to where Francis was piloting the ship, Alfred and Matthew on either side of him, observing how to steer the ship through the rougher waters of the North Atlantic.

"Boys," Arthur began, getting his son's attention, "go get your daggers, it's time for training."

"Yes!" Alfred cheered, running off, Matthew right on his heals.

"Race you!" Matthew challenged, passing him.

Alfred took the challenge, racing after him until they disappeared into Arthur's quarters to retrieve their weapons.

"So they cleaned everything pretty well?" Francis asked.

Arthur shrugged. "Good enough, they slacked a little with making their bed."

Francis chuckled. "You still gave it to them?"

"I figured, why not?" Arthur responded, "They work hard, with little complaint."

"You have a good point."

Arthur looked over to the blonde Frenchman. "Is this alright?"

Francis shot him a confused glance. "What do you mean, 'is this alright?'"

"You piloting for a while." Arthur answered.

Francis nodded. "Yes, that's fine, you know I love steering this ship of yours."

"Just making sure." Arthur said, looking forward to the sea in front of them. He heard Matthew and Alfred come running out of his quarters and started running for the stairs. "Just stay down there," Arthur ordered, "and don't wear yourselves out by running everywhere."

He descended the stairs, drawing his own dagger from its sheath at his left side. He pulled his cutlass sword and scabbard, and dropped it on the ground and out of the way. Arthur stood in front of Alfred and Matthew, and took a stance, readying himself for the sparring match between himself and his twin sons. Alfred and Matthew took their stances, readying themselves.

"Matthew, what's wrong with Alfred's stance?" Arthur asked as he noticed the slight problem in his son's stance.

Matthew looked Alfred up and down, studying his brother's stance. "Um… It's not wide enough."

Arthur nodded. "Now, Alfred, fix your stance."

Alfred nodded, adjusting himself so he'd have more stability on his feet. Matthew and Alfred were two completely different fighters, so they stood in different stances. Alfred was an offensive fighter, one who would attack first and try to end the battle there, where Matthew was a defensive fighter, who was already looking at being highly skilled with stealth. So, Arthur knew when he started the sparring match with the word "Begin," Alfred would attack almost immediately.

Arthur inhaled, reminding to slow himself down so his sons actually stood a chance against him. "Begin." He said.

As predicted, Alfred lunged forward with his dagger, swiping it abdomen-level. Arthur jumped back with a counter, swinging his own dagger to Alfred's right arm, who deflected the attack perfectly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Matthew sneaking off to the right, probably trying to take Arthur from the side or from behind. Arthur stepped slightly towards Matthew, readying to swing at him, but Alfred was faster, and swiped his dagger chest-level on Arthur, who again, jumped back to dodge.

"Nice speed, Alfred." Arthur praised in a pant.

Arthur heard a slight shift behind him, he deflected another attack from Alfred, and stepped to the side, dodging a lunge from Matthew. Arthur caught Matthew by the collar so he wouldn't go flying into Alfred.

"Great speed and stealth, Matthew," Arthur complemented, "but you do need to be a little bit quieter." He added.

Matthew nodded in reply, readying himself to dodge attacks.

This sparring match continued,for about an hour, stopping to take breaks every few minutes. Arthur slowed himself down to his son's paces, but he could already see much potential in them to become strong fighters, skilled pirates, and very great and merciful captains. Arthur couldn't be happier.

* * *

 **Translations:**

 _Capitaine- Captain (French)_

 **The quote at the very beginning of this chapter is from the song _Unity_ by Shinedown. I believe that this song matches the theme of this story, and the plot line. I do not own this song.**

 **Happy birthday to TorisLaurinaitis96, one of my best internet friends!**

 **~Feliks Out (^J^)**


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

It was just after dawn as Francis strode out of the galley, up the stairs, and onto the main deck. He spotted Alistair climbing up into the nest, Gilbert leaning against the side of the ship, talking to Ludwig, who was repairing something. Francis looked up to the helm to see Kiku piloting _The Raven_ through the waters. He was a bit surprised at that, for he hadn't seen Arthur all morning, and he's _always_ the first one awake, and the last one asleep. It didn't make sense, he wasn't in the galley, anywhere else below deck, the main deck, or at the helm, which left Francis with one last place to look.

He walked across the main deck, waved at Kiku, and knocked on the door that lead to Arthur's quarters. "C _apitaine?_ You in there?"

"Yes, Francis, come in." Francis heard from the other side of the door.

Following the orders, he turned the handle, pushed the door open, and walked in, closing the door behind him. Arthur looked as if he had been up a few hours, his hair was already combed neatly, or, as neatly as it could be. He already had his pair of black pants on, and boots, although he was still buttoning up a white shirt, where Francis spotted what looked like a part of a scar on the left side of Arthur's chest.

Francis narrowed his eyebrows in concern. "Is that a scar?"

"Hm?" Arthur paused and looked down to his chest. "Yes."

"I didn't know you had a scar." Francis commented.

"I'm a pirate, Bonnefoy, I have scars." Arthur said, stating the obvious.

Francis sighed. "I know, I meant I didn't know you had a scar _there_. I don't remember you getting slashed or cut that badly on the chest."

Arthur gave him an irritated stare. "You've only been on my ship seven years," he recalled, "I've been on the sea, living the pirate life since I was born."

"Really?" Francis exclaimed.

Arthur glanced away for a moment. "Well, ever since I can remember. My father raised me on the ship. I might of been three or four, though."

"Was it this ship?" Francis asked.

"What?"

"Was it this ship that you grew up on?" Francis restated.

"No." Arthur said quickly.

"What ship?"

Arthur shrugged. "I can't remember, it's not important."

Francis leaned against the wall. "So is raising your children to be pirates some kind of family tradition?"

"What?" Arthur exclaimed.

"I mean, your father raised you, and you're raising Matthew and Alfred just like he did-"

"No I'm not!" Arthur raised his voice, closing his eyes.

Francis glanced away. "Yes you are."

"I-never mind." Arthur said, "No, it's not a family tradition, it's just a coincidence."

Francis narrowed his eyes, but decided not to pry. "So, did you sleep in?"

Arthur shook his head. "No, I was up normal time, I was just doing some calculations."

"What kind of calculations?"

"Our amount of supplies," Arthur explained, "we're running low."

Francis walked over to the map that laid on Arthur's desk. "There are usually a lot of merchants where we are, and very little navy to defend them. Seems like a perfect chance to attack."

"That's what I was thinking." Arthur replied, coming over to look at the map.

"What's the orders, then?"

"Head south, if we head too far north, we might run into the Royal Navy, and we don't need that right now." Arthur ordered.

Francis nodded in agreement. "We do _not_ need that."

Arthur turned and slipped on his simple, dark green coat with light green accents and golden buttons and other decorations, and slipped in two earrings on his left ear. He grabbed his scabbard that held his cutlass sword, and sheath that held his dagger and placed them on his belt. Arthur picked up his pistol and slipped it in the inner pocket of his coat, and strode out of his quarters, Francis behind him.

.

Arthur walked out of his quarters, immediately smelling the salt water of the sea. He turned and walked up the stairs to the helm. "Good morning, Kiku."

" _Ohayōgozaimasu,_ Captain," Kiku greeted, "how are you this morning?"

Arthur walked even to Kiku, staring out at the ocean. "I'm well, Kiku, what about you?"

"I'm well." Kiku said, "How are you, Francis?"

"Pretty good, I didn't sleep too well last night, though." Francis answered.

"I'm sorry." Kiku replied sympathetically.

Francis chuckled. "It's alright, unless you were the one keeping me up."

Arthur saw a fake guilty expression appear on Kiku's face. "I did, actually."

Francis gasped. "Kiku! I thought we were friends!"

"No, Francis, you got it wrong," Arthur began, looking to his right and at the frog, "he's my friend, which makes him against you."

Francis gasped again. "That's not true, is it?"

Kiku shrugged without an answer.

Francis shook his head. "I can't believe this, Kiku! This whole time I thought you were on my side."

"I guess you were wrong." Kiku responded sarcastically.

Arthur laughed at Francis. "I told you he was on my side!"

Kiku chuckled. "I'm guessing you want to pilot now, Captain?"

"Yes, Kiku."

Kiku stepped away from the wheel, Arthur taking it and piloting _The Raven_. Francis took his position to the right of Arthur.

"Do you have any orders for me?" Kiku asked.

"Yes, actually," Arthur started, turning the ship south, "we're a bit low on supplies, and we're going to raid a merchant or two."

"Alright." Kiku said, prompting Arthur to continue speaking.

"Make sure the cannons and puckle guns are ready, and get the men on standby." Arthur ordered.

Kiku looked to the crew. "How close are we to the merchants?"

"Pretty close." Arthur replied, staring out ahead of his ship.

"Yes, Captain." Kiku descended the stairs, his left hand resting on the handle of his katana.

Arthur watched Kiku go to Ludwig and Gilbert, probably telling them his orders. The two brothers then strode to the puckle guns and got them ready for battle. Arthur looked back to Kiku, who was ordering men to get the cannons ready.

Arthur looked up to the nest. "Alistair!" He yelled, getting the attention of his stubborn, Scottish brother.

"What?" Alistair yelled back, obviously bothered by Arthur.

"Keep your eye out for a merchant ship!" Arthur ordered, "We're planning a raid!"

"Alright." Alistair replied in a bored tone, looking through his telescope, searching for a victim.

Arthur turned to Francis. "Where'd you last see the boys?"

"They were down in the galley, last I was them." Francis answered, "But I doubt that they're still there, you know how they wonder."

"I know." Arthur sighed, "Pilot, I'm looking for them." He ordered, walking away from the helm, and down the stairs to the main deck.

"Yes, sir." Francis replied.

Arthur glanced around the main deck, making sure Matthew and Alfred weren't there, before he descended below deck. He walked into the galley, and saw his sons sitting at a table, talking to each other playfully.

"Boys," Arthur began, his sons turning to him, giving him their full attention, "to your room." He ordered.

"What?" Alfred exclaimed, "But we didn't do anything wrong!"

Arthur shook his head. "You're not in trouble, we're just about to raid."

"Oh, okay." Matthew replied, standing.

"Why can't we watch?" Alfred complained.

Arthur narrowed his eyebrows. "It's much too dangerous."

"You taught us how to take care of ourselves." Alfred countered.

Arthur crossed his arms, shaking his head and closing his eyes. "No, I'm _teaching_ you. You two are nowhere near ready. Go to your room." He finished forcefully.

"Fine." Alfred said, giving up his argument and walking off with Matthew.

Arthur sighed and walked to Yao, who was standing behind the counter. "Yao-"

" _Shénme?_ " Yao snapped.

Arthur knew very little Chinese, even less than Yao knew of English, but he knew that. Yao had yelled "What?" at him, and Arthur could tell that he was irritated. "Raid." Arthur said.

The angry expression dissipated from Yao's face, he turned and grabbed a sword from behind his counter, then walked to Arthur's quarters, where his sons would be. When Yao first came onto _The Raven_ , he knew no English, but through the years, he learned more and more. Arthur had taught Yao simple orders like "Below deck," "Cook," "Clean," and "Raid." Arthur had told Yao that he was planning a raid, and to go somewhere safe, which used to be his quarters, but ever since he took in Alfred and Matthew, it meant to go to Arthur's quarters and protect the boys.

Arthur walked back to the main deck, and saw two men at every cannon, Ludwig and Gilbert at the puckle guns, Francis still piloting, and Kiku standing to his right. Arthur looked up to Alistair. "Anything?" He yelled.

"Yes, in the far distance." Alistair replied.

"Get down here." Arthur ordered, knowing that if there was any kind of battle, it would be dangerous for Alistair to stay up in the nest.

Without an answer, Alistair began climbing down to the main deck.

Arthur walked to his quarters, seeing the door close from Yao entering. He grabbed the handle and tried to open the door, but it didn't budge due to it being locked. Arthur heard the door unlock and open, Yao standing there, staring at him.

"Excuse me." Arthur said, stepping past the Chinese cook, and walked over to his sons, where were sitting on the floor by their beds. He squatted down to their level. "Boys, we've had this discussion many times now, but remember, stay in here."

"We know." Arthur's twin sons responded simultaneously.

"The only reason that you should leave is if the ship starts to sink." Arthur added.

"We know." Matthew reassured.

"But it won't sink, right?" Alfred asked, just as he always does.

Arthur shook his head. "This ship will never sink."

"You'll come back, right?" Matthew questioned, just as he always does.

Arthur pulled his sons into a big hug. "I will always come back… I love you two." He added.

"Love you two." The boys said at the same time.

"Get under your beds," Arthur ordered, "and don't come out from there until I get you, got it?"

"We know." Alfred said, sliding under his bed, Matthew doing the same.

Arthur ruffled his son's hair before he stood and walked over to Yao. "Thank you." He said.

Yao blinked and nodded at him.

Arthur sighed and exited his quarters, stopping to make sure that Yao locked it, and he walked back to the helm. It was always hard, leaving his sons locked in a room, hoping that nothing would happen to them, begging that they would stay safe. Francis moved out his way, and let him pilot _The Raven_.

"They're almost in range." Francis reported.

Arthur looked to the merchant ship. "I can tell, but we'll have to be careful."

"About what?" Francis asked.

"Not to sink it." Arthur said with a chuckle.

Francis chuckled.

"In range, Captain!" Alistair yelled.

"Fire front cannons." Arthur ordered calmly, his voice sounding almost bored. The cannons fired, hitting the side of the merchant ship, causing it to turn away. "Full sail!" Arthur yelled.

 _The Raven_ was kicked into full speed to the thanks of Arthur's crew dropping sail, and the strong winds pushing the ship along.

"Reloaded!" Alistair informed loudly.

Arthur stared at the merchant ship, considering the amount of damage caused. "Fire front cannons!"

The cannons fired, hitting the merchant ship again, causing it to rock back and forth unsteadily. Originally, the merchant would have been faster due to it's smaller size, and large sails, but from the damage, Arthur was gaining on it quickly. He carefully aligned the front of _The Raven_ , that was armed with a strong ram, with the side of the merchant ship.

"Brace for impact!" Francis commanded.

Arthur, Francis, and the rest of the crew braced themselves before they ran their ship into the merchant's. Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw Francis fall down, which made him laugh.

"Goddammit!" Francis mumbled as he hit the ground.

Arthur steered his ship to the left, ignoring Francis. His crew began throwing ropes over to the merchant ship, so they could board. Once his crew successfully readied the ships to board, Arthur jogged off, Francis behind him, Kiku taking the wheel.

"What is the meaning of this! What do you want!" An angry merchant, who seemed to be the captain, yelled the very second Arthur and Francis stepped foot on the ship.

Arthur strode up to the captain with ease, for the entire merchant's crew gave up without a fight. "Do you know who I am?" He questioned.

The merchant crossed his arms. "Do you expect me to know everyone? Of course I don't!"

Arthur grinned deviously. "You probably don't know what I look like, but I _know_ you'll recognise my name." He looked around the small ship,

"I probably won't." He hissed.

In a quick motion, Arthur grabbed the handle of his cutlass, pulled it out of its scabbard, swung it at the merchant, causing the entire merchant's crew to flinch, but stopped just a centimeter away from his throat. "My name is Arthur Kirkland."

The merchant visually paled as a look of horror appeared on his face.

Arthur's grin grew larger. "So you _do_ know me?" He said, almost singing the words.

The captain didn't answer.

"Answer me." Arthur demanded.

"Y-yes. Well, n-no."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Yes, or no, don't lie to me."

"I-I know of you."

Arthur nodded. "You know me by reputation."

The merchant nodded slightly, swallowing hard from the sword at his throat.

Arthur hated his reputation, but it still came in handy as a fear tactic. No one will attack you if all of your enemies fear you. "So you know how merciless and bloodthirsty I am… Right?"

The merchant didn't respond.

Arthur pushed the sword against his throat. "Answer me, dammit!"

"Yes! Yes! I know your reputation!" He finally answered.

"Please leave us alone." It was a different voice, one that came from behind Arthur.

Keeping his sword against the captain's throat, he looked to the source of the voice. "What?"

"Leave us alone." It was a younger man, he had his hands up in a way that suggested that he was trying to calm Arthur down as if he was an angry, aggressive animal.

"You want me to leave you alone?" Arthur asked.

The young man looked to his left.

"I'm not over there." Arthur said.

"What?" The young man asked.

Arthur smiled. "Why are you looking over there? I'm not over there, I'm in front of you."

He glanced to the left again. "I was just glancing-"

"Well stop." Arthur commanded. "But back on topic, you want me to leave you alone, right?"

"Yes."

Arthur lowered his sword from the throat of the captain, and began slowly walking to the younger man. "And why the hell should I do that, _boy?_ "

"We didn't do anything to you."

Arthur stood directly in front of the younger man. He smiled, looking down his nose at the him. "I know." He chuckled, "But it doesn't matter if you did anything to me."

An irritated and aggressive look appeared on the man's face. "So you just attack whenever you feel like it?"

"Have you ever heard of a pirate, boy? Because, in case you haven't noticed, that's what I am."

"Who gives you the right-"

"The right?" Arthur interrupted, "My right is that I'm stronger, faster, and better. Everyone fears me, and don't stand there and pretend you don't."

The young man narrowed his eyes. "I don't."

Arthur raised his sword slightly, and the man flinched, closing his eyes, and putting his hands up in surrender. "That's what I thought." He concluded, before turning around and walking back to the captain.

"What do you want?" The captain demanded, finally no longer stumbling over his words.

"Food, water, wood, and money. Tobacco if you got it."

"How much?" The captain asked.

"Oh, only a little," Arthur replied sarcastically, "how much do you think I want? All of it!"

"But if you take all of it, then we'll be left with nothing."

"I think that's the point." Arthur commented, shifting his weight to the right, putting his left hand on his hip and letting his right hand dangle, still holding onto his cutlass.

The captain looked to the ground. "Please, let us keep some for ourselves. At least some water and food. You can't just take it all and let us die."

"Yes I can!" Arthur boasted, dropping his arms and taking a few aggressive steps closer to the captain.

"Please, have some mercy-"

Arthur ground his teeth together. "You said you know me by my reputation. I have no mercy!" The captain was in so much fear, he looked like he was about to cry, so Arthur smiled. "You look like you're going to cry." He teased.

The captain closed his eyes, dropping his head in defeat.

"You know what, Captain?" Arthur began, walking around the main deck like he owned the ship.

"What?" He sighed.

"I'll leave you with a little food and water. But the majority of it is going onto my ship."

"Really?" He exclaimed.

Arthur nodded. "Yes."

"Th-thank you so much!"

Arthur, who was walking past the merchant stopped and glared back at him. "Don't kiss my arse." He walked off, ordering his men to go down into the cargo hold, and get the wood, water, and food, while he and Francis got all of the money from the merchant in his quarters.

.

It was sunset, shades of pink, yellow and purple streaking across the sky, the sun's light painting the ocean waves orange as a nice breeze flew through the air, making the sea calm. Arthur stood at the helm, steering his ship through his waters, Francis standing next to him in silence. They had a successful day, raiding two merchants without even getting close to being caught. He looked down at the main deck and spotted Alfred and Matthew sitting on two boxes by the side edge of the ship.

Arthur closed his eyes with a content sigh, before he looked over at Francis. "Can you pilot, it's time for they boys' lessons."

Francis nodded. "Of course."

At that, Arthur turned and walked away from the helm, and to the main deck. He sat down on a box beside his sons, both of them looking at him.

"Is it time for lessons?" Alfred asked.

Arthur nodded. "Yes."

Alfred stood up, and began to walk to his quarters.

Arthur reached out and grabbed his son's arm. "No, Alfred, not dagger lessons. Strategy and how to run a ship."

Alfred turned and sat back down in the spot he was originally in, kicking his heels on the box and humming in anticipation on the day's lesson. Arthur smiled warmly at the sight of his son's excitement toward the topic, but was also concerned. No one with the right mind would be excited about pirate life. "Do you know how I am so successful as a captain?" He asked.

"People fear you!" Alfred exclaimed immediately.

Arthur shook his head. "No, Alfred, it's because people respect me."

"But, Francis and Allie are always saying that you're the most feared pirate on the seas." Alfred countered.

"You basically own the seas." Matthew added.

Arthur chuckled, closing his eyes as he did so. He opened his eyes and looked directly into his sons'. "I know, but that's reputation," He began, "but when it comes to being a captain of a ship, you must have the respect of your crew, not fear." Arthur glanced away to the sea in remembrance of his own father, "But, the only way to get that is by respecting your crew."

"What do you mean?" Matthew asked, tilting his head to the left, his long hair moving with it.

Arthur thought for a moment. "Well, everyone on this crew does their part in making sure this ship stays afloat. Like, Francis and I maintain the ship, and strategize our each and every move." He paused and looked over to Ludwig and Gilbert, "Whilst Ludwig and Gilbert repair the ship whenever it's damaged." Arthur paused, "The fact is, everyone does a lot to keep this ship running, and it doesn't matter if I'm the captain or not, I cannot treat my crew like they're not human."

Matthew and Alfred stayed quiet for a long moment, staring up at him. Matthew finally broke the silence. "If you treat everyone as well as you do, then why do you have the bad reputation?"

That was a question that Arthur did not want to answer, for it only brought painful memories. He finally sighed, looking down at the wooden floorboards of the main deck. "My father was a pirate, just as I am." Arthur paused, looking above himself and at the ratlines, before he continued. "His ship didn't exactly run like mine. My father was very… different than I am. He wasn't as understanding to his crew, nor was he as merciful to innocent people. Because of this, along with me inheriting his last name of Kirkland, I'm very feared on the seas."

"Will we inherit the same reputation?" Alfred asked.

"Unfortunately, yes." Arthur said with a sigh, "Don't get me wrong, it comes in handy for your enemies to fear you because then they'll leave you alone, but…" He paused for a second, "it's hard to keep up the act when you don't want to actually hurt anyone. It's hard to constantly deliver empty threats like I have to."

"Why do you have to threaten people?" Matthew questioned.

"To keep the reputation living," answered Arthur, "if I didn't, then no one would believe that I am as merciless as i claim to be."

"But why do you have to claim to be merciless?"

Arthur blinked. "Our name gained my father's reputation, so many people fear me, therefore, usually leaving me alone. And to continue this fear that my enemies have of me so they leave us alone, I need to act."

The boys nodded in understanding. "So we'll have to someday?" Asked Alfred.

"Most likely, unless my secret gets out."

"I won't tell anyone!" Alfred promised.

"Me neither!" Matthew added.

Arthur chuckled. "Thank you, boys."

* * *

 **Translations (if any of my translations are wrong, please tell me)**

C _apitaine (French)- Captain_

 _Ohayōgozaimasu (Japanese)- Good morning_

 _Shénme (Chinese)- What_

 **If any of my pirate/navy lingo is wrong, please let me know, and tell me how to fix it in the comments, and remember, your reviews are always appreciated and loved!**

 **~Feliks Out (^J^)**


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Arthur was stressed, to say the least. Not because of his sons, or Francis, or Alistair, or anyone on the ship, but it was because of everyone who wasn't on his ship, because if they weren't on his ship, then they were his enemy. Not that he couldn't handle that, he's been handling it for eleven years, but eleven years of being everyone's enemy is stressful.

However, most of his enemies knew to leave him alone, or they'd get blown to smithereens, so that made it easier. Hell, it was kind of funny to Arthur to see a fellow pirate in the distance purposely change course so they wouldn't cross paths with him.

"You're strangely quiet today." Francis commented, breaking into Arthur's thoughts, "You haven't called me a frog very much, something bothering you, _Capitaine?_ "

Arthur sighed, closing his eyes. "No, I'm just more stressed than usual, that's all."

"It's already miday, and you've only called me a frog twice, there _must_ be a problem." Francis added teasingly.

Arthur narrowed his eyes at Francis. "I don't call you a frog that much!"

Francis laughed. "You're right," He paused, "you call me asshole as well."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Well, that's because you're an arsehole."

Francis chuckled. "Nevermind, you're perfectly fine."

Arthur looked down to the main deck. "Actually, Francis, there is something I want to talk to you about."

Francis turned his head to him. "What about?"

"In my quarters, I want your opinion before the whole crew knows about it."

"Okay," Francis began, "Do you want me to go get Kiku?"

Arthur shook his head. "No, I will, just head down."

"Yes, _Capitaine._ " Francis walked off.

Arthur spotted Kiku walking up from below deck, talking with Gilbert. Gilbert was speaking loudly, and if it weren't for the faster, louder winds, Arthur would be able to clearly make out what he's saying. Gilbert patted Kiku on the back then walked off to go bother Ludwig.

"Kiku!" Arthur called.

Kiku turned to him, with a look of attention. "Yes, Captain?"

"Come and pilot," Arthur ordered, "I need to discuss some things with Francis."

Kiku nodded, jogging up the stairs. "Anything specific you need me to do while piloting?"

"Don't run into any trouble." Arthur answered.

"Yes, Captain."

Arthur patted Kiku on the shoulder and walked down the stairs, and into his quarters. Francis was lying down on his bed with a smirk.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Arthur asked.

"Waiting." The frog said, rolling over and to an upright position. "So what do you need to talk about."

Arthur walked further in the room, crossed his arms and leaned up against his desk. "Although you already know my feelings on the topic, I believe we should make some allies."

Francis stared at him in confusion. "Really? All of a sudden, you want allies?"

Arthur sighed. "I think if would be beneficial to us. We've been running into Spanish and British Navy problems that we've barely dodged, and it would be nice for someone to have our backs."

Although Arthur's explanation, Francis still looked confused. "So who do you have in mind? I mean, basically everyone hates or fears us."

"Everyone fears us," Arthur corrected, "how they act on their fear depends on the captain."

"Good point," Francis noted, standing up from his sitting position on Arthur's bed, "but still, who do you have in mind?"

Arthur turned around and looked at a slip of paper that he'd been writing the names of possible allies on. He only had two. "Héderváry and Adnan."

The confusion on the Frenchman's face faded. "So, instead of having the mutual neutrality with them, you want an alliance?"

"Like I said, Francis, I think it would benefit us, and them."

"You already said how it'd benefit us, what about them, though? Héderváry and Adnan already have their own alliances that we'd be crushing." Francis replied.

"You have a point," Arthur commented, pointing at Francis, "but we can handle anything their allies throw at us."

Francis nodded, but didn't reply. He didn't look completely sold on the deal. "Yes, but that's more trouble than were in for just a few warnings every now and then."

"Not as much trouble as we would be if we ran into a warship's patrol." Arthur argued.

"Good point." Francis sighed. "Is there any other benefit that we would get from this, though?"

Arthur shoved his hands in his pockets. "Although Héderváry and Adnan aren't as good as us, they can still help us in a battle."

"Do you know where Héderváry and Adnan are?" Francis asked.

Arthur looked up the the ceiling in thought. "Last I remember, Héderváry isn't too far from here, they usually stay around France, Spain and Italy. Adnan would be further south in the Mediterranean."

"Well, considering all of our options," Francis began, "you're right, having a few allies would be beneficial, especially as you become more wanted."

"So it's settled, then, we start heading in Héderváry's direction, then to Adnan?" Arthur said, making sure he and Francis were clear.

"Yes," Francis agreed, "but I'm actually surprised that I didn't have to push you to this decision."

"I had already been thinking about this for a while, now. I figured I should talk to you about it." Arthur replied.

"Well thank you."

Arthur began to head out his door. "Let's go tell everyone." He walked through his door and to the main deck, Francis right behind him.

.

After a day of travel deeper into the Mediterranean, and a day of tracking down Héderváry's ship, they were closing in on her. Just a few moments ago, Alistair called down, informing Arthur that Héderváry was on the horizon, and now Arthur could see her. She was heading west as Arthur headed east.

"Are you sure about this?" Francis asked as the two pirates grew closer to each other.

"Yes," Arthur replied, "you approved of this, unless you're having second thoughts?"

Francis shook his head. "No, I'm just making sure that you want this."

Arthur glanced around his crew, making sure everyone was doing their jobs. He had already sent Alfred, Matthew and Yao into his quarters, not that he expected any danger, but he had to be careful. Plus, no one could know that Arthur had sons because then his enemies could use them against him.

He looked back to the Hungarian ship to see it turning off course to avoid him. Arthur laughed at the sign of fear. Although their mutual neutrality, Héderváry liked avoiding him, but then again, everyone did.

"Flag them down!" Arthur ordered loudly as he steered _Then Raven_ in the direction that Héderváry was fleeing in. It wasn't too difficult to catch up to them, both because of Arthur's very fast ship and the fact that Héderváry didn't try very much in her flee. Smart.

"Drop anchor!" Arthur commanded as he pulled his ship up parallel to Héderváry's. He felt someone tug at and flatten out his coat, so he turned in the direction of Francis. "What the hell are you doing?" He asked the Frenchman.

Francis looked up at him. "Straightening your coat," he said simply, "you might be a feared piece of scum, but you need to look good."

"I'm a pirate." Arthur stated.

"And? You're Captain Arthur Kirkland!" Francis exclaimed, "Fit the role!"

Arthur let out a long sigh and waited for Francis to finish. He smiled. "How much do you want to bet that Héderváry mistakes you as the captain?"

Francis looked at him. "I would bet against you, but that always happens."

"It's because of your attire." Arthur began, "It's a captain's wear."

"Well, dress fancier!" Francis exclaimed.

"No." Arthur said, turning and walking down the stairs and to the main deck. He paused for a moment to wait for Francis to catch up before he strode across the plank and onto Héderváry's ship.

Arthur stepped down from the plank, his boots clicking on the wooden deck. He glanced around, then moved out of Francis' way. He saw Héderváry walking down the stairs, her First Mate right behind her. Héderváry was a strange character, a woman as the captain of a ship, and a strong woman at that. Arthur knew that Héderváry didn't take any shit from people, and if they looked down at her because of her sex, she would make them pay.

"Kirkland," Héderváry greeted, walking over to Francis, "it's an honor to meet you in person." She shook Francis' hand.

Arthur scowled. "Over here."

The Hungarian captain looked to him, a mix of fear and stress in her eyes. "What?"

" _I_ am Captain Kirkland." Arthur growled.

Héderváry paled slightly. "I apologize greatly, Captain, I didn't mean to offend."

Arthur cocked his head to the right, "It's too late for that."

"What she's saying, is that you—"

"Excuse me," Arthur interrupted, "who the fuck are you?"

"I am Roderich Edelstein, Captain Héderváry's First Mate."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "But you're not the captain, right?"

"I said I was Héderváry's First Mate." Roderich replied, crossing his arms.

"I know what you said," Arthur hissed, "but you didn't answer my question, are you the captain of this bloody ship?"

Roderich held Arthur's glare. "No."

"Then why the fuck are you speaking to me?" Arthur exclaimed. "I believe that I was speaking to Héderváry! The captain!"

"Captain Kirkland," Héderváry said in a calm tone, "my First Mate only meant well, please, do not be angry with him."

Arthur turned his back to the Hungarian and began to walk around her ship like he owned the place, because he did.

"Where are you going?" Roderich yelled in anger.

Arthur smiled evilly and looked over at his shoulder to the ex-aristocrat. "I'm taking a look around, Edelstein, unless there's a problem?"

"This isn't your ship!" Edelstein exclaimed, Héderváry obviously angry with his outburst.

Arthur laughed. "But what are you going to do, though? Will you fight me if I said this is my ship, or would you cower?" He challenged.

Roderich opened his mouth to reply, but Héderváry interrupted. "What is it that you need, Kirkland?"

Arthur smiled and laughed, continuing to walk around the ship because he knew no one would stop him. "I am requesting an alliance with you, Héderváry."

"Enough with the formalities, Kirkland, you can call me Elizabeta."

"Alright, Sweetheart." Arthur replied, walking over to the stairs that led to the helm. "Anyway—"

"Not to be rude, Kirkland," Elizabeta said, "but, please don't call me Sweetheart."

With his hand resting on his sword, in a discrete way of threatening the Hungarian and her crew, Arthur turned around, smiling. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Sweetheart."

Elizabeta closed her eyes in anger, letting out a long sigh through grit teeth, and Arthur's smile turned into a grin.

"She—"

"Roderich, do you know when to shut the hell up, or will it take me slaughtering you wife and captain to silence you? Because I will." Arthur threatened, gripping the handle of his cutlass angrily.

Roderich paled at the threat, but held Arthur's stare, which was a challenge. Slowly, Arthur made a few steps towards Elizabeta, pulling his cutlass out of its scabbard, the whole time, he held Roderich's glare. "Shame, I wasn't planning on killing anyone, Héderváry, but your First Mate is stupid."

Roderich looked away, dropping his stare to the floor in a silent surrender.

"Violence isn't needed, Captain Kirkland." Elizabeta negotiated, her voice shaky with fear. "You said you wanted an alliance, continue on that."

Arthur laughed. "I like how you try to distract me from my anger with putting thoughts in my head. Very sly."

Elizabeta took a few steps back, her hand hovering close to her sword, but tried to make it discrete. "Please," She begged, "I don't want any violence with you, the neutrality we had was nice, and depending on the regulations, an alliance could be very just and beneficial to the both of us."

Staring directly in Elizabeta's fear-filled eyes, Arthur sheathed his cutlass, but kept his hand on the handle. "Of course, I've already realized that myself, Sweetheart."

Elizabeta's hand moved from its position by her sword. "So, what are the conditions on said alliance?"

"The obvious things," Arthur began, walking around the ship again, "we warn each other of upcoming dangers, storms, warships, and things of that sort. If one of us comes across the other in a battle, we aid them. One of us sees the other sailing a damaged ship, we point each other in the direction of the nearest safe place to make repairs, or to find some cheap wood or other supplies. Or hell, we loan each other money, or buy supplies from each other. You're in alliances with other people, you know how they work."

"I know," Elizabeta began, "but I was making sure there was nothing else."

"Like what?" Arthur questioned teasingly, "Me enslaving your crew? You bending to my will?"

Elizabeta didn't answer.

"Not that it doesn't sound like a marvelous idea, Sweetheart, but I doubt you'd agree with it. Many of your crew here looks like they'd want to fight and die before bending to my will." Arthur explained, "Devil knows my crew would fight before be under someone else's control, right Bonnefoy?"

"What? Y-Yes! I-I mean, yes, Captain!" Francis exclaimed, making his voice shake with faked fear. "I would fight to my dying breath for you, everyone on your ship would."

Arthur smiled darkly. "Good." He glanced at Elizabeta and Roderich, and saw sympathy in their eyes as they stared at Francis, who purposely made himself look as if he was beaten just minutes ago. Arthur was grateful that Francis was willing to do that to keep his act of being a cruel, abusive captain alive. He reminded himself to thank Francis later.

"So," Arthur began, turning at looking at the Hungarian, "are we in an alliance, or not?"

Elizabeta stared at him for a minute, glancing over at Roderich multiple times.

"Don't look at him." Arthur ordered, "Remember, Elizabeta, he almost got you killed a moment ago."

Elizabeta closed her eyes. "I'm already in alliances with others, I don't want to break those."

"Well, are they really your ally if they leave you because of me?" Arthur asked.

"Some of them…" Elizabeta trailed off.

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Some of them, what?"

"Hate you."

Arthur laughed. "Some of them?" He exclaimed, "Everyone hates me, Sweetheart, that's nothing new."

"I just don't know how they'd react." Elizabeta said.

Arthur smirked. "How about this, you track them down and tell them. If they react angrily or violently, send them to me. I've been aching for some battle."

Elizabeta gave a look of surprise and terror. "I don't want them dead!"

"Well, if they attack you, then that means you're worthless to them." Arthur explained.

Elizabeta closed her eyes tightly. "Will you let me talk it over with my First Mate?"

"Oh, of course!" Arthur exclaimed, "Although I don't, many people talk important decisions over with their First Mate, so, go ahead."

Roderich and Elizabeta walked off, disappearing in Elizabeta's quarters. Arthur sighed in relief, wondering how long he'd have to keep up the act. He hoped not much longer. He turned around and walked to the edge of the ship, Francis walking up next to him.

"Hang in there, just a little longer." Francis whispered.

"I know," Arthur breathed, "I just hope she accepts, so I won't have to attack her."

"Well, you could just go back to that neutrality that we had." Francis suggested.

"Kirklands aren't that merciful." Arthur countered.

Francis shrugged. "You're in a good mood today."

Arthur chuckled. "Maybe." He took a deep breath, looking out to the sea to calm his mind. "Thank you, Francis."

Francis glanced at him. "No need to thank me, especially not here." He said, reminding Arthur that they were on an enemy's ship.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Right." He looked back out to the sea. What was he doing? Héderváry would never take up the offer and become an ally with a maniac like him. What was he doing? Why did he have to live up to the Kirkland name? Act merciless, sadistic, evil? Why did he push himself to act like the people he hates? He teaches his sons about respect, but he shows them fear. Arthur put his left hand over his eyes. What was he doing? Everyone feared and hated him, but did he really have to act? Other pirates and navies should fear him because of his skills, which he was the best pirate on the seas, just not the most abusive.

But, Arthur knew that his his enemies found out that he was actually kind, or even _soft_ , they would run into so many more problems. He would be surrounded, probably, and _The Raven_ would sink, there's only so much one ship can go through. Arthur dropped his hand from his face. _What are you doing, Arthur?_

Behind him, a door opened, creaking as it did so. Sighing, Arthur turned around, smiling. "Come to a decision, Sweetheart?" He asked when he saw Héderváry and Roderich walking up.

Roderich said something in Hungarian, and Elizabeta waved him off. "We'll ally with you."

Arthur could tell that she was repressing her own anger and want to kill him. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Really? I expected you to beg for mercy after you refused."

"No," Elizabeta breathed, "you would be a very powerful ally, and very beneficial to us."

Arthur grinned sarcastically. "Don't kiss my arse, Sweetheart, I know you only did this because you fear me."

"No, you would be very—"

"Helpful for when your allies turn on you because they want nothing to do with me." Arthur interrupted.

"No—"

"It's okay," Arthur replied, "it's been too long since the last time I reduced a ship to a heap of burning wood and bodies."

Elizabeta sighed. "So it's settled?"

"Yes." Arthur replied, taking a few steps towards the Hungarian. "And we can start said alliance with you telling me where the nearest port is. I'm running a bit low on supplies."

Looking up at the sky in thought, Elizabeta shifted her weight to the right. "I would go to one of the islands off of Italy or in Southern France. Those are the safest places."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "You see, Sweetheart, this was a test. I'm not running low on supplies, but if I was, and if I wasn't knowledgeable of where the safest places for pirates are, you would've just sent me to my death."

Elizabeta stared at him.

Arthur shrugged. "But don't worry, I'm in a good mood today, so this won't affect our alliance… This time."

"I'm sorry—"

"No you're not. Well, not yet." Arthur said, "If this happens again, you will be sorry. But it won't happen again, right?"

"No, I promise." Elizabeta replied in a pleading tone.

Arthur smiled evilly. "Good." He paused, "I'll be on my way, now. If any of your past allies give you trouble, I'm going further down the Mediterranean if you need help."

"Alright." Elizabeta responded, a look of fear still on her face. "Safe travels."

"And to you as well, Sweetheart." Arthur said over his shoulder, striding off pridefully. Once on his ship he walked up the stairs and to the helm, where he steered _The Raven_ in the direction of Adnan, who would hopefully be his next ally.

* * *

 **It's chapter 3 and Arthur is forced to make friends, poor Arthur.**

 **You will be seeing Elizabeta and Roderich later in the story, don't worry.**

 **~Feliks Out! (^J^)**


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

With a heavy sigh, Arthur leaned his forehead up against the pegs on the wheel. He looked up at the Ottoman's ship beside his, wondering if he should even deal with speaking with Adnan, he wasn't in the mood to pretend to be a total maniac. Maybe he should just turn around and forget about the "alliance," and leave Adnan alone.

"Something wrong, Captain?" Kiku, who was standing to his right, asked.

Glancing over to his friend, forgetting that it was him standing beside him instead of Francis, Arthur gave a tired smile. "No, Kiku, just having some second thoughts about this."

Kiku raised an eyebrow. "Why? Adnan nor his allies are a threat to us."

"I know that, I just don't feel like acting today." He closed his eyes and let out a long breath, "But it's not like I can act like my normal self, they'll think I'm a fake, and then we'll be in trouble."

Kiku shrugged. "An abusive captain or not, your reputation of unbeatable still remains."

"You have a point." Arthur agreed, staring back to Adnan's ship, which was anchored down, waiting for Arthur's move. "Where the hell is Francis?"

"He went to go and speak with your sons, I believe, and change his clothes." Kiku explained.

Arthur sat up from his slouched position over the wheel. "Why? His clothes were just fine!"

Kiku shrugged again. "You know how fancy he likes to dress sometimes."

Arthur rolled his eyes with a scoff. "He just wants Adnan to mistake him for me. He thinks it's funny when that happens."

Kiku looked out to the horizon for a long moment.

Arthur's eyes followed, staring at the exact point where the ocean met the sky. "Something out there?" He asked suspiciously.

"Not that I can see." Kiku replied, still staring.

Arthur turned his attention back to neutral ship beside him, recalling that Kiku was very careful, and often kept an eye out for any signs of trouble, especially around other ships. Arthur understood Kiku's suspicion, they've been ambushed more than once.

"Ready?" Francis asked, striding halfway up the staircase.

Arthur raised an eyebrow at the rather expensive coat his First Mate was wearing. "That's a bit fancy for a man who works for someone as abusive as me."

Francis smiled. "Maybe you want to make a good impression."

"A good impression is you cowering in fear." Arthur replied, giving a small, evil smile.

"Don't talk to me like that, here you're Arthur, over there you're Captain Kirkland." Francis said, pointing over at the Ottoman's ship.

Arthur rolled his eyes, and walked past Kiku and Francis, and down the stairs. He stood there for a moment, cleared his throat, forced a neutral yet menacing look on his face, and continued walking. He glanced behind him, and saw Francis slouched slightly, and his eyes were locked on the floorboards.

"Kirkland!" Adnan called in a cheerful tone, quickly meeting Arthur and Francis.

"That's _Captain_ Kirkland, to you." Francis corrected, pointing at Adnan.

"Francis, calm down." Arthur said in an expressionless tone.

"Yes, Captain." Francis replied, following Arthur's order, and fixing his stare back to the floorboards.

Arthur studied Adnan's appearance, searching for any possible signs of aggression in his stance. He was taller and broader, that much was obvious. He wore a red and yellow buttoned up jacket, and a pure white mask, covering his eyes. He had a large, expensive sword at his left hip, but besides that, looked unarmed, but Arthur had to be careful, there could be more weapons hidden in his long, red coat.

"I wonder what the story behind that mask is." Arthur pondered aloud, and taking a few steps forward, filling the large gap that Adnan had made between them. "It's probably very thrilling."

Adnan hesitated before answering. "It is, but I doubt you're here for storytelling."

Arthur smirked, folding his hands behind his back. "You're right." He glanced down at the Ottoman's sword as he noticed that his hand was hovering beside it, showing that he felt threatened. "Relax, Adnan, if I was here to kill you, you're ship would currently be sinking in the ocean."

His hand didn't move from its spot by his sword. "There's only so relaxed I can be."

Arthur smiled darkly. "I'm glad you are uncomfortable," He turned and began to walk around the ship, "my presence keeps you on edge, doesn't it?" The masked captain looked uneasy when Arthur glanced back at him. "Something wrong, Adnan?"

He shook his head, waving him off with a smirk. "No, Kirkland, nothing's wrong. And don't worry about formalities, Sadik is fine."

Arthur smiled. "Alright then, Sadik, you can continue calling me _Captain_ Kirkland." He turned his back again, and studied the Ottoman ship.

"If you don't mind me asking, Captain Kirkland, what are you doing?" Sadik asked.

Arthur glanced over his shoulder. "Looking around my ship, what does it look like?"

"But this is _my_ ship." Sadik replied, anger in his voice.

Arthur turned around, and walked slowly back to the masked captain. "No it isn't. Not when I'm on this ship, it isn't."

Sadik's hand inched slightly closer to the handle of his sword. He laughed. "You must be confused, maybe the Mediterranean heat has gotten to your head. Being English, you should stay further north."

Arthur grabbed the hilt of his cutlass with his left hand, and his right took ahold of his dagger, but neither left their scabbards. "You're saying that the heat has turned me… confused? Or did you mean to say crazy?"

"I… meant no insult, Captain Kirkland." Sadik said.

Arthur laughed. "I am crazy!" He yelled, "But, I'm the kind of crazy that you don't want as your enemy, Adnan!" He took a few steps backward, knowing that a member of the Ottoman's crew was behind him. Arthur stood beside a young brunette, and placed his right hand on his shoulder. "Because, Adnan, wouldn't it be a shame if this young man bled out, right in front of you?"

"Don't hurt him."

"Then get your hand away from your goddamn sword!" Arthur ordered. "In fact, toss your sword on the ground near Francis' feet!"

Sadik took his sword by its hilt, and tossed it on the ground. Arthur took his hand off the brunette's shoulder, and took a few steps forward, and turned back to the brunette. "I should kill him anyway, shouldn't I, Adnan, he looks rather lazy."

"No, Heracles does his part on this ship. There is no reason for you to kill him." Sadik argued.

"You'd be dead in a day, on my ship," Arthur threatened Heracles, "remember that." He turned back, and walked towards Sadik. "So, you were saying this wasn't my ship?"

"It isn't. I am the captain of this ship."

"And yet you are so far following my every order. You let me board you, you even disarmed yourself because I told you to. It makes it that much easier for me to kill you, because you listened. So, this is, in fact, my ship." Arthur's right hand took ahold of the hilt of his cutlass that sat on his left hip, "Unless you disagree."

Sadik laughed, waving Arthur off. "You're right, you're right. Thank you for explaining it to me, I didn't realize that's what you meant." He continued laughing, "Maybe the heat has confused me."

Arthur's insane expression faded from his face and was replaced with annoyance. He turned and continued walking around _his_ ship. "So, you're wondering why I'm here, yes?"

Sadik calmed down his nervous laughter and got back on subject. "Yes." His tone of voice was suspicious and uneasy.

He spun around on his heel, facing Sadik and his crew. "I want an alliance."

Although Arthur couldn't see Sadik's eyes, he saw his jaw drop in surprise. The Ottoman closed his mouth and shook his head. "I must've misheard you—"

"You heard me correctly, I want an alliance with you." Arthur folded his hands behind his back, straightening his posture. "We have a nice neutrality, but I think we'll both benefit from an alliance, don't you agree?"

Sadik glanced to the Heracles, who had stood and walked closer to him. A discrete threat, trying to show that Arthur was outnumbered. Arthur smirked, although he actually dreaded what was going to come next. "Why are you suddenly up?" He asked Heracles.

"He's my—"

"I asked Heracles." Arthur interrupted.

"He doesn't speak English." Sadik replied nervously. "He understands it, though."

"What languages does he speak?"

"Greek and Turkish." Sadik replied.

Arthur sighed, crossing his arms. "Why is he up?"

"He's my First Mate." Sadik glanced at Heracles. "We should probably discuss such a huge decision."

"Go ahead, I won't stop you." Arthur waved them off. "Just leave your sword with Francis."

Heracles said something, and Sadik replied before he spoke in English again. "What are the terms of this alliance."

"Sadik, you have other alliances, you know how they work. Just warn each other of certain dangers, help each other out in battle, point each other in the direction of supplies, that sort of thing." Arthur explained calmly.

Sadik nodded, walking off to his quarters, Heracles right on his heel. "I understand perfectly, Kirkland," he chuckled, "I was just making sure that there wasn't anything else besides the normal stuff."

Arthur didn't reply, but just smiled, putting his hands behind his back again. He glanced over at Francis, who was walking closer, holding Adnan's sword.

"You got a bit violent there." Francis recalled in a quiet tone.

Arthur scoffed. "It wasn't violent, just threatening. Violent is acting on the threat."

"It was a violent threat." Francis argued.

Arthur glared at him. "Shut it. Besides, I always get violent."

"I'm surprised you even have to," Francis whispered, "most people find just your presence menacing enough, let alone a threat."

Arthur shrugged. "Let me see that sword." He ordered, and Francis held it out. It looked like any other sword in design, but the hilt was covered in beautiful gems. It seemed that Sadik Adnan was the type of captain that liked to show off and parade around the amount of money he had. Arthur had to hand it to the man, most of the clothing his crew was wearing looked expensive, especially Sadik's own coat. Arthur cocked his head to the side. "It's pretty." He commented before handing the sword back to Francis.

As time passed, Arthur grew impatient. He walked closer to Sadik's quarters, and heard them speaking in a language that Arthur was sure that no one on his ship knew. Probably Turkish or Greek. Arthur shrugged, and walked off, the only thing that he would be able to make out was their names, and the fact that they were arguing. As he looked around, he noticed a dirty blonde with red-ish purple eyes who was staring at him. He seemed more to be zoning out in Arthur's general direction, so he shrugged it off, not really caring. He, personally, doesn't care, but Arthur _Kirkland_ would care, but he was done acting for the day. He didn't want to pick a fight, nor did he want to kill anyone, even if Sadik and Heracles refuse to join an alliance, Arthur would just leave. He doesn't feel like it.

Sadik came walking out of his quarters, looking angry, and so did Heracles. It was obvious that they were arguing, even if Arthur didn't walk over to try and eavesdrop. He straightened his posture. "Have you come to a decision?"

Sadik seemed nervous again, and hesitated. "We will join your alliance. You are right when you said that we would both benefit from this, and I'm glad you came to us with your offer."

 _Well that sounded scripted,_ Arthur thought cynically. He clasped his hands together. "Perfect! You see, Sadik, when I first came here, I remembered how stubborn you could be, and I just thought that you wouldn't agree to it at all, which would've meant I'd have to kill, when, I really don't want to kill you. You are a great captain, I can tell that much. You're good at stealing, which is why you parade your money around." Arthur paused and looked down to Sadik's sword which was still in Francis' hand.

In a quick move, Arthur pulled his cutlass out of its scabbard on his hip, and swung towards Sadik's neck, who, in turn, blocked it with a dagger he pulled out from his red and yellow coat. Arthur laughed, lowered and sheathed his sword. "I was pretty sure there was a weapon of some sort in that coat of yours. Which means you're not completely disarmed."

Sadik looked confused. "So?"

"So" Arthur echoed, "I don't have to return this rather expensive sword of yours. Unless there's a reason you need it."

The Ottoman stared at him. "If I did give you a reason, you wouldn't listen, would you?"

Arthur laughed. "You already know me too well. You're armed, which means I didn't leave you defenseless, I'm considerate like that."

Heracles mumbled something, and Sadik gave him a hard glare.

"You're lucky I'm in a good mood today, Sadik, you really are." Arthur said, tossing a small pouch of gold onto the deck. "It's definitely not the full price of this sword, but it can buy you a pretty expensive replacement."

"Why? I thought you said you were taking it." Sadik replied.

"We're in an alliance, I can't rob you." Arthur replied. "I'd love to chat, but I should get going. If you're headed north anytime soon, then you're pretty clear for storms, unless you're going into the North Sea, you'll catch some stuff up there, nothing too big though." He turned to leave before he remembered something. "Oh, and Sadik, there's someone else in our alliance you should know about."

"Who?"

"I'm sure you're familiar with the name Elizabeta Héderváry?" Arthur asked.

"Of course, she's the only woman on the seas!" Sadik gave a smile, "Not only that, but she's pretty damn strong. I'll keep my eye out for her."

"I'm glad she won't be a problem, Adnan. I'm heading back north, I'll let her know that you're her ally now."

"Thank you," Sadik began, "And I'm glad we could end our discussion peacefully."

"As well am I." Arthur said over his shoulder as he walked away, Francis following him.

.

Arthur stood alone beneath the dark sky of night, but he wasn't bothered. He liked to be alone, it was nice, it was quiet. No battle, no death, no lies. He took a deep breath, staring out at the dark waves of the ocean. Those waves were always so calming, no matter the situation, no matter the stress, it calmed him.

It was one of those nights again, where he couldn't sleep. That was fine, he's gone days without sleep, and sometimes, it was worth staying up all night to see the sunrise over his ocean. A warm ocean breeze blew across _The Raven,_ and ruffled his clothes and hair.

He walked beside the ratlines, and sat on the edge of his ship, legs dangling over the water. Arthur was almost always comfortable with the ocean, despite his lack of swimming ability. The only time he was uncomfortable with the ocean, what when it was storming, but even then, as long as he had control of his ship, he was fine.

"Aren't you afraid the sirens will get you?" Arthur heard from behind. He turned and saw Alistair walking up calmly.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "If sirens were real, I would've died a long time ago."

Alistair shrugged. "Maybe they're not interested in you."

Arthur chuckled. "What are you doing up, Tartan?"

"I was just about to ask you the same thing." The Scot replied, standing beside him.

Arthur stared at him. "Can't sleep."

"One of those nights again?"

Arthur sighed. "Yes. Why are you up?"

Alistair shrugged, and didn't answer.

"Couldn't sleep." Arthur answered for him.

"Yeah. You know, Art, maybe you should talk to someone about this." Alistair suggested.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Like who?"

"Maybe Kiku? You two are like brothers." Alistair paused, "Francis?"

Arthur shook his head. "No, I'm fine, I just occasionally can't sleep. It's been getting better."

"Alright." Alistair said, who must not be in the mood to argue.

Arthur focused back to the constantly changing waves, and zoned out. The two didn't speak again, and Arthur eventually heard the sound of Alistair returning below deck. Like Arthur wanted, he saw the sunrise over his ocean, which was always beautiful. His crew was waking up, and becoming lively, so Arthur made his way to the helm, and started heading northwest, towards Héderváry's ship.

* * *

 **No translations this time**

 **At the end of this chapter, Arthur calls Alistair "Tartan" which is a nickname that Arthur has given him due to Alistair's kilt that he wears. Tartan is very similar to plaid, and is used on most Scottish kilts. You will see Arthur call Alistair "Tartan" "Kilt" "Scot" and "Skirt" multiple times in this story.**

 **That's all I got for you for the authors note, but the next chapter will finally have some pirate violence, yay!**

 **~Feliks Out! (^J^)**


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

"What… the fuck…?" Francis breathed, staring at Gilbert, who was currently trying to shove his entire hand in his mouth.

Gilbert attempted to speak around his hand, but Francis couldn't make out a word of what he was saying. Francis shook his head. "Nevermind, I don't want to know."

"Alfred dared him to put his whole hand in his mouth." Ludwig explained, in a thick German accent.

Francis glanced from Gilbert to Ludwig. "Alfred did?"

Ludwig nodded. "Yes."

Francis let out a long sigh, looking back to Gilbert. "I'm not helping you if you make yourself throw up."

Gilbert took his hand out of his mouth. "I thought we were friends!"

"We are." Francis began, "which means that I get to laugh when you do stupid things, not help you."

Gilbert glared at him. "You have a strange concept of friendship."

Francis shrugged. "You're the one who told me that! I'm quoting you!"

"Oh yeah." Gilbert breathed, "I also have a strange concept on friendship."

"Understatement." Ludwig muttered, taking a bite of his porridge. "You should eat, Gilbert."

Gilbert laughed. "Food is for the weak! I am awesome!"

Just as Gilbert said that, Alistair walked by, and took his bowl of porridge.

"Hey!" Gilbert yelled at the Scot.

Francis stared up at Alistair, wondering why he took Gilbert's food.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Alistair said sarcastically, "I thought you were too awesome for food."

Francis covered his mouth, trying not to laugh.

"Well…" Gilbert trailed off.

Francis laughed, and Alistair set the bowl back down and walked off. "Not as awesome as you thought?" Francis teased.

"I am awesome, and I don't _need_ food, it just helps." The albino boasted.

"Whatever." Francis replied, standing, "I need to go, though."

"Why?" Gilbert asked, "You're just going to stand next to Kirkland all day."

Francis stared at his friend. "I am the First Mate, I am supposed to be there whenever he needs me to be."

Gilbert shrugged. "Alright, whatever." He began eating his porridge.

Francis left the galley, and went to the main deck. It was midday, and he had just finished his lunch. In fact, most of the crew was already finished with lunch. Kiku was standing beside Arthur, having a conversation with him, and the rest of the crew was going back to work. Alistair was already back in the nest, and Li Xiao, a new cabin boy, was working with Alfred and Matthew on the main deck.

Francis walked to the helm, when he heard Alistair yell down from the nest. "Captian! We have a problem!"

Francis glanced to Arthur, who looked angry. "What is it, Alistair?" He yelled back.

"Héderváry's ship is being attacked!"

Arthur let out a long sigh. "She's only been allied with us for two weeks, and this shit is already starting." He muttered under his breath. "Alright, Alistair, get down here!"

"What do you want me to do, Captain?" Kiku asked.

Arthur glanced to Francis, then to Kiku. "Spread the word to get all cannons and puckle guns ready. Not just the cannons on the main deck, all of them, got it? Get everyone ready for battle."

" _Hai._ " Kiku replied, running past Francis.

"Bonnefoy," Arthur said, gaining Francis' attention.

" _Oui, Capitaine?_ " Francis asked.

"Pilot." Kirkland ordered, "I'm going to get the boys, Yao, and Li Xiao to safety."

"Of course, _Capitaine._ " Francis said, taking the wheel of _The Raven_. He steered the ship easily through the waters, staring forward. Eventually, Francis saw two ships in the distance, smoke from cannon fire surrounding them. Growing slightly nervous, he made sure he had his weapons on him. His rapier sword at his left hip, his pistol at his right.

.

Arthur jogged out of his quarters, locking the door. If his ship began to sink, however, Alfred and Matthew had a key, so they'd be able to get out. He checked to make sure he had his cutlass, his dagger, and his pistol and ammo. Once checked, Arthur ran up the stairs, and took control of _The Raven_ , not needing to tell Francis to move.

"All cannons, puckle guns, and men are ready for battle." Kiku reported, yelling from the main deck.

Arthur stared down at his black-haired friend, giving him a silent goodbye. He never knew what could happen. "Good." He replied, glancing at Francis, to Alistair, and the rest of his crew, giving a silent goodbye. "Sheet home!" He ordered.

 _The Raven,_ Arthur's strong, fast, reliable ship, that's been the only true reason of his survival thus far, picked up speed, sailing through his waters directly towards the two battling ships. Eventually Arthur recognised the attacker's ship as an ally of Héderváry, or, _ex_ -ally.

"We're in range, Captain!" Kiku reported.

"Fire front cannons!" Arthur yelled, his crew following the order quickly. The cannonballs flew through the air, crashing into Héderváry's attacker, damaging their armor.

"Reload!" Francis ordered from beside him.

Arthur steered his ship to the right, parallel with Héderváry's attacker. "Fire port cannons!"

Only a few moments after his order, cannonballs shot through the air, hitting the side of his enemy's ship, which began to turn away from Héderváry and try to flee. Arthur narrowed his eyes, adjusting his ship's position, chasing after his enemy. They started this battle, they're going to see the end of it.

"Reloaded, sir!" Alistair yelled from the forecastle deck.

"Fire front cannons!" Arthur repeated, closing in on their fleeing enemy.

Once again, cannonballs flew through the air, crashing into the enemy. The sound of the ship's wood cracking and breaking filled the air. Suddenly, oil was poured into the water, and lit aflame, causing Arthur to change his course. He had to hand it to the captain, he had _some_ defensive tactics, but Arthur easily evaded it, and continued forward. Coming in from the side, Arthur slammed his ship, which was equipped with a powerful battle ram, into his enemy's.

He gave the order to board, and ran down the stairs, and to Alistair. "Alistair," He began, catching his crewmember by the shoulder, "I need you to stay on board, and make sure no one gets to the boys."

Alistair stared at him for a moment, a small hint of disappointment in his eye. He sighed. "Of course."

"Good." Arthur replied, running off, using a rope to throw himself from his ship, and onto the other.

Once he landed, he turned to the first person he saw, and stabbed them in the chest, for they were not fast enough to dodge or block the attack. He kicked the dying pirate off of his cutlass, and turned to continue killing. Within a few moments, Arthur had the blood of his enemies stained on his green coat, and he had found Kiku, who was using his katana skillfully. He saw his Japanese friend cut someone's head clean off in one hit. Arthur saw some idiot try and take him from behind, but Arthur was faster, and his slit the pirate's throat.

Arthur turned around, knowing that someone, who was behind him, was attacking. As he turned, a sword was slicing directly towards his throat, but a fast rapier deflected it, and Francis ended the man's life, giving a quick stab to the heart. Arthur took his dagger and threw it through the air, hitting someone in the chest, then ran off, trying to find the cowardly captain.

Without doubt, Arthur ran to the helm, seeing three men. Two "bodyguards" and one captain.

"Kirkland," The captain yelled, "it doesn't have to be like this!"

Without answering the captain, Arthur attacked one of the "bodyguards," clashing his sword against his enemy's, before quickly faking him out, and and stabbing him in the gut, and throwing him down the stairs. Arthur pulled out his pistol, and shot the other bodyguard in the chest, killing him quickly.

"Kirkland, we can make peace!" The captain pleaded.

Arthur smiled, pacing forward. "No. We can't. Not anymore." He paused, "You attacked my ally."

"I didn't kill her." The captain protested.

"And now you never will." Arthur replied, lunging, thrusting his cutlass forward, trying to kill the captain quickly.

The captain parried, and attacked back, trying to slice him in the ribcage. Arthur dodged, cutting the coward across the chest, before dodging another attack. They clashed their swords together, fighting on an almost equal level. The cowardly captain took the offensive from Arthur, but Arthur easily dodged and blocked every attack. Their swords slammed together, Arthur putting every ounce of strength and weight behind the attack, trying to beat the other captain. To his surprise, the other captain gave Arthur a hard kick in the stomach, throwing him back. The captain backed up quickly, putting a large gap between the two, pulled out his pistol, cocked it, and pointed it at Arthur's face.

Catching his breath, Arthur slowly looked up to the coward, who wasn't standing in a very threatening manner. Even the way he held his pistol wasn't very threatening, the only thing that was even mildly intimidating was the fact that there was a loaded pistol pointed at his face.

"Kirkland," The captain said, trying to make his voice sound forceful, "you're going to surrender to me. You and your crew will do whatever I say, are we understood?"

Arthur laughed. "Or what?"

"I kill you."

Arthur laughed harder. "I won't be dying anytime soon."

Only a heartbeat after Arthur's words escaped his lips, a French rapier sword was shoved through the captain's chest from behind, and the captain was kicked down to the floorboards of the helm by Francis. Arthur walked closer and squatted down to the captain. "You see, Coward," he began, putting his cutlass sword against the captain's throat, "someone as weak as you doesn't have a chance against someone as strong as me. That's why you fled in the first place. But you made one mistake, Coward. Do you know what that is?"

The captain spat blood into Arthur's face.

Arthur didn't care, he just smiled down at the other pirate. "You didn't watch your back." He slit the man's throat only a second after he finished speaking. He stood, and stared down at the dying captain, and listened to the sound of him choking on his own blood. The sound faded, and the man's eyes went dark as the life faded from his body.

"You owe me." Francis teased, giving Arthur a small shove.

"Owe you," Arthur said with a roll of his eyes, "I'm pretty sure we're even."

"No, you owe me." Francis countered.

"No, the last time we got in a fight like this," Arthur began, "I shot that guy for you."

Francis glanced up at the sky. "Oh yeah. I guess we are even, then."

Arthur turned to the rest of the ship, noticing that the battle was over. What was remaining of the crew were on their knees, begging for mercy. Arthur walked down the stairs and to the prisoners. He didn't say a word to them, he just stared at them, until he turned to his crew and said, "Tie them to the masts, and set this ship aflame. There are to be no survivors."

Arthur walked off, allowing his crew to do what he had ordered. They all deserved to die, they were all pirates, who backstabbed Elizabeta Héderváry, and attacked one of his two allies. Every one of them deserved to burn and die.

Arthur stood on his ship, watching the other burn, the flames spreading and growing larger. Gunpowder exploded, causing the ship to begin sinking faster. He continued staring, even after he ordered Francis to pilot _The Raven_ to Héderváry. The enemy ship sunk further and further into the ocean, and Arthur finally turned his back to it, and directed his attention to his ally.

He glanced over his shoulder at the flames. "See you in Hell." Arthur muttered under his breath to his dead enemies.

.

Arthur strode onto Elizabeta's ship, noticing that no one protested. Francis was walking directly behind him. He saw Elizabeta sitting on the stairs that lead to the helm, seemingly wounded. She stood, using the stairs to help herself, and limped over, holding her ribcage. Arthur ran over to her, not even thinking about putting up his ruthless act.

"Kirkland," Elizabeta grunted, "please make this quick, I have very little energy."

"You need to sit back down." Arthur ordered, taking her gingerly by the shoulder, and leading her back to the stairs where she was previously sitting. "You're badly injured."

"I know." The Hungarian panted, allowing Arthur to sit her back down. "What do you want?"

Arthur ignored her question. "Let me see your wound." He ordered.

Elizabeta gave him a confused look. Without an answer, she leaned over, and pulled her shirt up, revealing a deep gash in her ribcage, wooden splinters still shoved into her skin.

Arthur let out a sigh. "Do you have a medic?"

Elizabeta shook her head. "Not anymore. He was killed in the battle. His apprentice is doing everything he can, but he's not very skilled. He still has much to learn."

Arthur didn't waste a second in their conversation. He turned to Francis, who was standing to his right. "Francis, go get Ludwig. Hurry!"

"Yes, Captain." Francis replied, running off.

"Who's Ludwig?" Elizabeta questioned suspiciously.

"He's my medic." Arthur stated simply. "He's very well trained, and should be able to stitch and dress your wound."

"I'm not that bad." Elizabeta protested, trying to stand.

"Elizabeta, I know you're very strong, but you're also very hurt. Let me help." Arthur said, putting his hand back on her shoulder to keep her from standing.

Elizabeta sighed, giving in. "Fine." She muttered.

Francis and Ludwig ran up, Ludwig holding a bag of supplies. "How are you hurt?"

"My ribcage." Elizabeta said simply, showing Ludwig the wound.

"Alright," Ludwig replied in his thick German accent, "could you give us some space, Captain?"

"Of course." Arthur replied, walking off, but not moving too far from Ludwig and Elizabeta.

"You're not acting." Francis pointed out, standing close to him.

"Why should I? She's hurt, I don't need her scared of me right now." Arthur argued.

Francis stared at him for a moment. "Maybe you shouldn't act. I mean, once you trust her and Adnan, maybe you should tell them the truth."

Arthur shook his head. "I can't trust them, that's how I get backstabbed. Even if I want to, or pretend to, I can't trust them. That's how I've survived this long."

"That's also how you've made so many enemies." Francis added.

Arthur gave Francis a glare. "I have so many enemies because of my name."

"Trust issues doesn't help, though." Francis said.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I'm not talking about this. Is Alistair still with the boys?"

"Yao is with them, but Alistair is guarding them." Francis reported.

"Good." Arthur stated. He and Francis continued talking back and forth for a while. Ludwig eventually left to go help Héderváry's apprentice tend to everyone's injuries.

"What do you need, Captain Kirkland?" Héderváry asked, an agitated tone in her voice.

Arthur turned to her. He studied her wound, noticing that it was wrapped tightly, but professionally. Smudges of blood were stained near the top, but he noticed that Ludwig managed to stitch it up and keep it from bleeding more than it had been. Héderváry was slouched in her sitting position, her hands resting gingerly on her knees. Arthur blinked. "I came to check up on you, I expected your past allies to attack, I didn't believe that it would happen so soon, however."

Elizabeta stared at him. "Is that all?"

Arthur hummed, shifting his weight to the side, and crossing his arms in front of his chest. "No, I'm also here to inform you of a decision I have made."

Elizabeta stared at him, hiding her emotions behind her green eyes. "And what's that?"

"I've added someone to our alliance. I'm sure that you'll recognize the name." Arthur said slowly, reminding himself that Héderváry and Adnan have never gotten along.

"Who?"

"Sadik Adnan." Arthur replied simply.

"What?" Elizabeta exclaimed loudly, "Adnan! We used to be enemies!"

"That's the point, Sweetheart, _used to._ " Arthur emphasized, growing agitated.

"He's an asshole-"

Arthur didn't let her finish. "Well, Sweetheart, if you didn't like assholes, then you shouldn't have married Roderich." He glanced to the Austrian ex-aristocrat as he began fuming at the insult. Arthur narrowed his eyes in a silent threat. Roderich stayed quiet.

"You couldn't have chosen anyone else?" Elizabeta argued.

Arthur dropped his arms from their position across his chest, and put his left hand on his hip. "No, as a matter of fact, I couldn't." He said angrily, gesturing with his right hand to emphasize his point. "I really think you underestimate the amount of people that hate me, currently. There were only two people on the entire planet that didn't want to kill me on sight. And that was you and Adnan."

Elizabeta closed her eyes tightly, standing up, using the staircase to help herself. "I understand that you have very few people that trust you, Kirkland, but you chose Sadik Adnan? You can't trust that guy."

"I understand that." Arthur responded in a bored tone. "But you're going to have to deal with it. He's decided to put your past behind him, I highly suggest you do the same." He threatened.

Elizabeta rolled her eyes. "Glad to know the nice guy's gone."

Arthur immediately sensed her sarcasm and narrowed his eyes, folding his hands behind his back. "I understand that you're injured, but you can at least cut down on the attitude a little."

"My attitude?" Elizabeta exclaimed quietly, pointing to herself, "Have you seen yours?"

Anger boiled in Arthur's veins. "Excuse you?"

Elizabeta stared at him in a mixture of regret and fear. She blinked. "You heard me." She said carefully.

Arthur took a threatening step forward, closing the gap between them. "What have I done to you?"

The rage reappeared in the Hungarian's eyes. "What have you done to me? This is your fault!"

Arthur blinked. "I know." He sighed, "I expected you to run into trouble when you allied with me, but I didn't think it would happen so soon."

"You said that already." Elizabeta reminded.

"I know that your crew got injured, I know that you lost lives, and I'm sorry." Arthur apologized, "I thought I was ahead of trouble, when I was actually right behind it." He paused, "I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner, and I'm sorry that you and your men had to suffer."

Héderváry stared at him, confused by his humbleness. She didn't say anything.

"But," Arthur began, allowing his anger to show in his voice again, "I didn't do anything wrong."

"Of course you did!"

"What did I do?" He questioned, cocking his head to the side.

"How about force me into this alliance, for starters, and how many times have you threatened or insulted me?" Elizabeta exclaimed.

"I didn't force you into anything." Arthur replied, "And I'm sorry if I hurt your little feelings." He mocked.

"Really? What would you have done to me if I said no to this alliance?"

Arthur shrugged. "I wasn't planning anything against you. If you said no, then you said no."

Héderváry stared at him, fuming. "How many times have you threatened me?"

Arthur shook his head. "Our alliance never said anything about threats. I haven't acted on anything." He paused. "Besides, ever since we made our alliance, I haven't done anything wrong."

"Done nothing wrong?" Elizabeta asked in an accusing tone.

"I've done everything I promised I would." He began, "I came here to give you important information, which was Adnan, I helped you when you were being attacked, I came onto your ship to make sure you were alright, I lent you my medic to help your and your crew, even though I have injured men who need his help, and I when I leave, I was going to send you in the direction of supplies."

Elizabeta opened her mouth to protest, but Arthur interrupted her. "I understand that your people got hurt, some died, and I'm very sorry I wasn't able to get here sooner, I really am, but I haven't done anything wrong except for the occasional threat, and insult your man-whore of a husband."

Roderich made an offended sound behind him, but didn't argue.

The Hungarian captain adjusted her eyes to the floorboards. "What do you want me to do, then?" She asked.

"A simple apology would be nice." Arthur replied. "Also, could you maybe act like you don't want to rip my guts out?"

With a heavy sigh, Elizabeta closed her eyes. "Fine, I'm sorry." She said through grit teeth.

"That sounded a bit forced, but that's good enough for now." Arthur turned, walking away. "I would head towards Italy if you want to get some supplies."

"Thank you." Elizabeta muttered.

Arthur stopped and looked to her, staring at the injury on her ribcage for a moment. He dropped his insane, hateful act for a moment, and gave her a sympathetic, kind look. "You're welcome, Captain." He turned and continued walking.

Behind him, he heard Elizabeta and Francis talking softly, but still speaking loud enough for Arthur to hear.

"Francis, we can help you." Elizabeta suggested, whispering carefully.

" _Non_ , Elizabeta, I'm fine, trust me." Francis reassured.

Being careful not to let Francis give away that he was acting, Arthur glanced over his shoulder at the two, and threateningly said, "Francis, how long are you going to stand there like an idiot?"

"Sorry, Captain, I'm coming." Francis replied quickly, rushing up beside him.

Arthur crossed onto his ship, and paced to the helm, where he waited until he saw Ludwig jog onto _The Raven._ He sailed away, not saying a word to Francis who stood beside him. For some odd reason, the short conversation between Elizabeta and his First Mate bothered him. Elizabeta actually thought that Francis needed her help, but he still wasn't sure why it bothered him. That was the impression he wanted, to be viewed as an abusive, insane captain that beat his crew senseless everyday.

" _Francis, we can help you."_

That sentence, for some reason, hurt Arthur. It put what everyone had thought of him in perspective. She actually thought Arthur was a monster. But wasn't that what he wanted? That was the one thing that would ever keep the boys safe, was if people feared him. Then why did it bother him so much?

* * *

 **Translations:**

 _ **Hai (Japanese)- Yes**_

 _ **Oui (French)- Yes**_

 _ **Capitaine (French)- Captain**_

 _ **Finally some pirate violence, am I right?**_

 _ **To be serious though, please tell me if you have any suggestions on how I can improve this chapter, I think it came out well, but I don't know the most about pirates. If any of my pirate lingo is wrong, or if I wrote the battle scene wrong, tell me, please.**_

 _ **And don't worry, guys, you will learn about Arthur's past eventually, if you haven't already figured it out. I'm not expecting you to, I kinda want it to be a surprise, but if you figured it out, that's great!**_

 _ **~Feliks Out! (^J^)**_


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Arthur walked with his hands behind his back in a proud manner. His boots clicked on the floorboards beneath him as he strode with confidence. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure that his two newest recruits, Thomas and Quentin, were following closely. They were taking in the view of Arthur's powerful ship, and he turned to face the two. He had been giving them a tour of the ship, and finally, they were at the helm, where Arthur grew more serious, and even slightly threatening.

He cleared his throat, gaining the attention of the two recruits. "Thomas, Quentin," he said slowly, "before I dismiss you to your work, there's something I must inform you of."

Thomas, without hesitation, asked, "What's that?"

Arthur pointed in the direction of Alfred and Matthew, who were currently sitting on a few boxes, leaning up against the mast, and yelling up to Alistair, having a conversation with him. "You see those two boys?"

"Yeah," Quentin answered for the two of them, "what about them?"

"Their names are Alfred and Matthew," Arthur began, turning back to the recruits, "they're cabin boys."

"They seem a bit young." Thomas replied, sounding uneasy.

"They're cabin boys," Arthur emphasized his lie through grit teeth.

"Alright, alright," Thomas said, putting up his hands in surrender, "they're cabin boys."

Arthur narrowed his eyes, taking a threatening step closer to them. He spoke slowly so they would hear him clearly, "You do not touch them. I don't care if they're acting out, you do not discipline them. You do not order them, they get their orders from others—"

"They don't take orders from us?" Quentin exclaimed, "Why not? They're _cabin boys._ "

Arthur took another step forward. "They do not take orders from you." He said even slower than before.

Quentin took an uneasy step back, running into Thomas.

"Do not disobey any of my orders or rules, there will be consequences. Especially these rules. If you break them," Arthur paused, "I break you."

"Yes sir!" They exclaimed simultaneously.

Arthur turned to walk away, "You're dismissed, go below deck and work, I've already given you your orders, unless you're so stupid, you already forgot."

"No, we didn't forget." Thomas replied quickly.

Arthur walked away without another word, glancing over his shoulder after a few moments to make sure they followed his orders. He strode up to Alfred and Matthew, who were still sitting in their spots on the crates. "Boys," He said calmly, gaining their attention.

"Yeah, Dad?" Alfred asked.

"I have two new recruits," Arthur began, a serious tone in his voice, "if you remember from last time with Ludwig and Gilbert, you do not address—"

"You as Dad or anything of that sort—" Matthew began.

"—we call you Captain, or Kirkland." Alfred finished, "It was the same thing with Ludwig, Gilbert, and Li Xiao."

Arthur chuckled. "I'm glad I don't have to explain it to you as thoroughly. The recruits are Thomas and Quentin, if they ask you any personal questions, either lie or refuse to answer. If they threaten you—"

"Tell you immediately." Matthew interrupted.

Arthur stared at his sons. "I'm serious about this."

"We know." Alfred replied in an over-exaggerated, exhausted tone.

Arthur smiled, ruffling both of his sons' hair. "Just do as I say." He turned and began to walk off, "And Alistair," He started, raising his voice and spinning around so he could glare up at the Scot who was in the nest.

"What?" Alistair yelled back, annoyance very evident in his voice.

"Get off your arse and do your job!"

Alistair glared over the edge of the nest. "What the fuck do you think I've been doing up here? Standing here and twiddling my thumbs?"

"Sure as hell seems like it!" Arthur yelled back.

"You're just jealous of me!"

Arthur laughed hysterically. "Jealous of you? What, exactly, would I be jealous of?"

"My better looks, better accent," Alistair paused, "and, of course, the kilt!"

Arthur rolled his eyes and began to walk away. "Believe me, Tartan, out of anything I _could_ be jealous of, your skirt isn't one of them!" He strode up to the helm, and stared at his ship.

 _The Raven_ had some damage caused by the battle with Héderváry's attacker, but it was nothing that his crew couldn't fix. He decided to give them time and stay in the small port that he was already at to make the needed repairs. After standing at the helm for a few moments, he decided that he would go into town and gamble, he has plenty of money to spare.

He told his carpenters to continue working on the ship, but told Gilbert to take a break and go ahead into town. Ludwig was also relieved of working, for Arthur assigned him to watching over the boys while he was out. The boys knew the rule: stay on the ship.

.

Alfred watched his father, Francis, Kiku, Alistair, and many other crew members leave the ship, and go into town. This was a rare occurrence, many times they would be docked they'd have to leave very quickly to avoid any navies. But apparently there wasn't that much of a threat here.

Alfred was smiling mischievously as he sat on the crate next to Matthew. He saw Ludwig sitting down on the stairs that led to the helm, reading one of his books. Alfred turned to Matthew, gaining his brother's attention.

"I have an idea." Alfred whispered.

Matthew, who was leaning up against the mast with his eyes closed, turned his head and looked to Alfred. "For what?"

Alfred sat up and slid closer to his brother. "To sneak off the ship."

"What?" Matthew exclaimed quietly.

"I'm serious," Alfred began, "we're never allowed to leave the ship, we should be allowed to go into town too!"

Matthew stared in the direction of Ludwig for a moment. "Ludwig would notice."

"Not if we sneak off." Alfred countered, "Dad always says that you're good at stealth."

Matthew nodded in agreement. "Yeah, but you're not, you're pretty loud."

Alfred rubbed his chin. Although he hated to admit it, Matthew was right. He wasn't very good at being quiet, so there had to be some alternative.

"I got it!" Matthew exclaimed quietly, "I can distract Ludwig for you."

"Yeah, but how do you get off?" Alfred replied.

"I sneak off, I'm good at sneaking around, remember?" Matthew explained, pride filling his voice.

"Okay, but don't let him see me." Alfred said.

"Don't worry, I won't." Matthew promised, "Now I'm going to go distract him, leave when you get the chance."

"What do I do when I get down there?"

"Wait for me," Matthew replied, "but don't be seen!" He jogged over to Ludwig.

Alfred watched from his spot, and saw Matthew bolt past Ludwig, running as fast as possible up the stairs. Matthew loudly said something that Alfred didn't quite make out, and he climbed onto the wheel of the ship, rocking it back and forth. Ludwig glanced behind him, and ascended the stairs, and tried to coax Matthew off the wheel of the ship. Matthew jumped off of it, but turned it back and forth quickly. Alfred stood, and began to casually walk off, then he jogged down the ramp, unnoticed. It seemed as if Matthew distracted Ludwig well enough.

Alfred waited for his brother, sitting on a nearby bench, acting as if he belonged. That's something Dad had always told them. If you act like you belong, no one will question you. Alfred glanced over his shoulder, to see Matthew begin descending the ramp, first slowly, but his pace quickened as he got closer to the ground.

"Nice distraction!" Alfred exclaimed, standing and walking towards town.

"Thanks." Matthew replied. "Wait a minute, what are we going to do? Wander around aimlessly?"

Alfred hesitated in thought, humming and tapping his foot on the ground. "Dad always praises how good English whiskey is. Let's go get some, I have money."

Matthew shrugged. "Alright."

The two left, walking through town. They weren't exactly sure where they were going, but they chose a direction and stuck with it. They eventually came to a place that was called _Shamrock's_. Alfred, at first, didn't know if it was a pub or not, but as someone left it, the stench of alcohol stung his nose.

Alfred walked in, still pretending like he belonged, although he was smaller than everyone else in there. He strode up to the counter, where there was a bartender. He was barely taller than the bar, but that didn't matter. If he acted like he belonged, no one would question him.

"Two glasses of whiskey, please!" Alfred ordered the bartender, getting up on his tiptoes.

He heard the bartender chuckle, and lean forward. "What?"

"Two glasses of whiskey." Matthew repeated, raising his voice above the sound of the loud chatter.

"How'd you two find your way in here?"

"The door." Alfred replied bluntly.

The bartender laughed, cleaning an empty glass with a rag.

"What's your name?" Matthew asked kindly.

"They call me Patty." He said with a shrug.

"Okay, Patty," Alfred began, "can we have two glasses of whiskey?"

"How old are you two?" Patty asked, leaning against the bar.

"Ten—" Alfred began.

"—but we're going to be eleven in July." Matthew finished.

Patty glanced away. "July's not that far away."

"Yeah, and we're mature kids, we're allowed to have whiskey." Alfred lied.

"Say that it's for your Pa, and I will." Patty ordered.

"Where are you from?" Matthew asked randomly.

"Ireland." The bartender replied.

"Oh, our dad hates your kind," Alfred began, "we don't know why, but he just says he does."

"Is he English?" Patty asked in an annoyed tone.

"Yeah." Matthew answered.

Patty nodded. "That would be why."

"Anyway, if we say the whiskey is for our dad, we can have some?" Alfred clarified.

"Yes, sir." Patty nodded.

"Why?"

Patty hesitated. "I have my morals. They might be few, but they're still morals. I won't give kids alcohol unless it's for an adult, even if they're lying and it actually isn't. It puts my conscience at ease."

Alfred smiled. "Okay, the whiskey is for our dad."

"Alright— wait a minute, you two have the coin for this, right?"

"Yes, sir," Matthew began, pulling out a small bag of gold coins, "here you go."

Patty took the small bag, and looked inside it. His eyes widened for a moment, then the bag disappeared beneath the counter. "So how much to you two want?"

Alfred and Matthew gave each other a look of confusion, before they shrugged and simultaneously said, "I don't know."

Patty chuckled. "How about a small glass each. You two are ten, after all."

"Alright." Alfred replied for the two of them.

Patty poured them their small glasses, and placed it on the counter. "You two have a nice day, but I'm not giving you any more than that."

"Have a good day!" Matthew exclaimed, taking his glass and walking off to a table.

"Thanks!" Alfred said to Patty, following Matthew.

.

Arthur strode back onto _The Raven_ in a prideful manner. He could still taste the remnants of fine English rum in his mouth from drinking and gambling earlier. It was nice to get off the ship for a little bit, and walk around, even if the ground felt stiff and heavy. After growing up and living his entire life on the sea, Arthur wasn't very fond of land. The ground always felt too hard, and unnaturally stable. There was no sway that flowed with the movements of the waves, and the Earth.

He stopped on the main deck, glancing around. Alfred and Matthew were not in immediate sight, but they were probably down in the galley, messing with Yao. Arthur noticed that Francis and Gilbert weren't in sight either, but that didn't surprise him that the two weren't back from their trip to the whore-house.

Then he noticed Ludwig. He was sitting on the stairs that led to the helm, reading. Or at least it looked like that. The position Ludwig was sitting in was supposed to look casual, but it seemed uncomfortable. Nervous. Arthur studied him from where he was standing, noticing that Ludwig didn't turn the page in his book for nearly three minutes now.

Arthur walked over, knowing that something was amiss. He stood over Ludwig for a few moments, then cleared his throat. "You must be a slower reader than I thought."

Ludwig gave Arthur a nervous glance. " _Nein,_ the book isn't in German. It's in French."

Arthur looked down to the book. "I see." He turned and studied the ship again, "Where are the boys?"

Ludwig tensed slightly. "What do you mean? It's not my turn to babysit."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "I asked you specifically."

"No you didn't." Ludwig denied.

Arthur didn't like threatening his own crew, especially members he trusted, like Ludwig, but everyone knows, even the ones who Arthur has befriended, that he's not faking an act when it comes to his sons. "How about this," he began, bending down, taking Ludwig by the shirt, and pulling him to the edge of the ship, "you stop lying, and tell me where my boys are." He hissed.

"I don't know!" Ludwig said panically.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Arthur snapped.

"I turned this entire ship upside down, I can't find them!"

Arthur relaxed slightly. "Where did you look?"

"Well, I looked in your quarters, and I know I'm not supposed to go in there, but I figured they would be there," The German paused, "I looked in Francis' quarters, the galley, below deck, that hiding place they have behind the barrels of rum in storage—"

"Hiding place…?" Arthur interrupted, trailing off, "That's where they go?"

" _Ja_." Ludwig answered slowly.

Arthur shook his head. "Anyway, where else did you look?"

"I also checked the brig because I was desperate."

"The brig? Why the hell would they be down there?" Arthur exclaimed.

Ludwig shrugged. "I don't know, young boys are weird, I thought maybe they were playing jail or something!"

"I have someone down in…" Arthur trailed off again, "...there…" He looked in the direction of the brig, remembering that he hasn't sent anyone to feed or water the man down there in a while. "He's probably dead."

"That would explain the smell." Ludwig commented.

Arthur looked back to Ludwig. "That's your punishment, dispose of the body in the brig. I'm going to look for the boys. They're not on the ship, are they?"

Ludwig shook his head. "Probably not."

"Hey!" Arthur heard Gilbert yelled behind him, "Let go of my _bruder!_ "

Arthur glanced to Gilbert as he jogged up beside them.

"Calm down, let me defuse the situation." Gilbert said in a calm manner.

"Situation defused," Arthur replied in monotone, letting go of the younger, blonde German, "clean out the brig, Ludwig."

"Yes, Captain." Ludwig replied, walking off quickly.

"Oh!" Arthur exclaimed, "Ludwig, did you check the nest? They've been trying to get up there for a few days now!"

Ludwig glanced over his shoulder. " _Ja_ , I checked the nest."

"Dammit!" Arthur yelled, turning and walking to the ramp, taking Gilbert by the back of the collar, and pulling him with him.

Gilbert made a choking sound. "What?"

"You're coming with me." Arthur said emotionlessly.

Gilbert cocked his head to the side. "What are we doing?"

"Looking for the boys, they must've snuck off the ship." Arthur paused and saw Kiku walk up the ramp, and onto the main deck. "Kiku!" Arthur called.

" _Hai_ , Captain?" Kiku asked, turning in his direction.

"Watch after the ship, I'm going back into town." Arthur ordered.

"Is there something wrong? You sound panicked." Kiku commented.

Arthur glanced in the direction of the brig, where Ludwig was currently pulling a body out of. "Ludwig can't find the boys, I think they might've ran off into town."

"Do you want me to keep an eye out for them here?" Kiku asked, obviously concerned.

"Yes." Arthur replied, turning and walking off without a goodbye. He walked down the ramp and into town. He paced on the cobblestone streets, worry filling him. He jogged, unsure where he was going. _What if they were kidnapped, what if the navy got them, what if assassin's got them, bounty hunters, thugs, murderers, hitmen, other pirates…_

"Captain," Gilbert replied in a worried tone.

"What?" Arthur exclaimed, looking around, expecting Gilbert to have found Alfred and Matthew.

Gilbert cleared his throat. "Maybe instead of wondering around aimlessly, we should think of where Alfred and Matthew would've gone. Like, they've been wanting to get off the ship with us for two years now, and they finally got off. Where would they go?"

Arthur paused, thinking. The twins always wanted to try smoking, like Alistair, but they've also wanted their own swords. However, Arthur never gives them enough money for swords. They've also wanted pistols, and other weapons. They wanted fancy clothes, and long coats like Arthur and Francis had. He snapped as he figured out where they would be. Ever since they became ten, Alfred and Matthew have been asking to try Arthur's rum, or other alcohol that he has on his ship. "They're at a pub."

"Alfred and Matthew, two ten year olds, are at a pub?" Gilbert asked in an unconvinced tone, "Sure."

"Think about it," Arthur began, looking to the albino over his shoulder, "ever since they became ten, they've been wanting to try rum and whiskey."

Gilbert gave a confused look. "But why though, they're ten?"

"They say that they're ten now, so they're no longer kids," Arthur replied, turning back forward, "which apparently means they can drink."

Gilbert shrugged. "Well, I agree with them," he paused, "I mean, I'm not saying that they should get glass after glass of rum until they're passed out face-down in their hammocks, but they're pirates. Give them a small glass to share every now and then."

"I'll think about it." Arthur replied in monotone. He looked up to the pub on the corner of the street. _Shamrock's._ He sighed and entered, immediately hearing music and a loud chattering crowd. He glanced around, not noticing anything out of the usual. His eyes landed on the bartender, who was also chattering away.

Arthur began to stride over to the bar, the bartender noticing him, and dropping the empty glass that was in his hand, causing it to shatter on the floor. The auburn bent beneath the bar, taking a bit longer than usual to clean up the mess. Arthur leaned against the bar, peering over the edge. The auburn stood back up, obviously surprised on how close Arthur was.

"E-evening, sir," The barkeep stuttered, taking a step back, "how-how may I help you?"

Arthur smirked. "You know who I am, don't you?"

The auburn swallowed hard. "Yes I do—"

"Good," Arthur interrupted, "then you know what I can do." He paused, "I'm glad that's out of the way."

The bartender hesitated. "How may I help you?"

Arthur's smirk dropped. "I'm looking for two young boys. They look around ten or eleven years old."

"Sir, this is a bar, there aren't any kids in here." The bartender stated firmly.

"Really?" Arthur asked in an accusing tone, "Then why did this guy say he saw two kids in here?" He lied, pointing at Gilbert. This was a tactic, to see if the bartender would grow more nervous, or confused. He became more nervous.

"I-I don't know why h-he would," The barkeep stuttered, "there are no kids in here."

Arthur nodded, glancing back at Gilbert. "Have you seen any kids wandering around?"

The bartender glanced to the left. "No, not at all."

Arthur narrowed his eyes as he noticed that before every answer, the bartender would glance to the left. He had to hand it to the man, he was a good liar, but not good enough. Arthur sat down on a barstool. "Are you the owner of this place?"

The bartender gave a confused look. "Yes." He said.

"Where are you from?"

The barkeep paused. "Ireland."

Arthur rolled his eyes with a groan. "Irish." He spat.

"Why are you asking?" The Irishman asked, gulping.

"I ask the questions," Arthur snapped, "what's your name?"

"Th-they call me Patty—"

"I don't care what they _call_ you," Arthur hissed, "what's your bloody name?"

Patty paused. "Patrick."

"Patrick," Arthur echoed slowly, smiling darkly, "as you may know, I wasn't asking those questions because I give a shit or anything. I was asking for my own personal gain."

"Personal gain?" Patrick asked.

"Yes, Patrick, the Irish owner of _Shamrock's._ If I ever need to hunt you down, I have personal information." Arthur replied.

Patrick visually paled.

"I'm joking— well, kind of." Arthur paused, "I'm going to ask you one more time, have you seen two ten to eleven year old boys around here?"

Patrick glanced to the left. "No, sir."

"Alright," Arthur said calmly, standing, grabbing Patrick by the collar, and tugging him forward, pulling out his dagger, and holding only a few centimeters from Patrick's sternum. Patrick braced himself against the bar with his hands, "you see, Patrick, I noticed something about you," Arthur began, "every time you lie, you glance to the left."

"I-I wasn't!" Patrick objected, "I was just—"

"Looking over there only when you answer certain questions?" Arthur interrupted, "Listen, _Patty_ , I am in no mood to deal with _you_!"

"Please, just leave me alone!" Patrick begged.

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Where are those boys?" He hissed, getting closer to Patrick.

"They're in a booth upstairs!" Patrick blurted out.

Arthur leaned away, concealing his dagger in his coat again. "That's what I thought." He huffed, walking towards the stairs, and ascending them, glancing over his shoulder to make sure that Gilbert was following.

"That was a bit harsh, he's only a bartender." Gilbert commented.

Arthur spun around and stared Gilbert in the eye. "Nothing gets between me and my sons. Not even an innocent bartender."

Gilbert took a step back. "Alright, calm down, I'm not the enemy here."

Arthur turned his back to Gilbert, not caring to answer. Once he was at the top of the stairs, he studied each side of the room. In the back corner booth, was where Alfred and Matthew sat, almost like lounging kings. Alfred had this feet on the table and his hands behind his head, and Matthew was leaning his back against the wall to the side, his feet facing the end of the booth. Matthew's eyes locked with his, before he saw him mutter something to Alfred, who, in return, burst out of the booth, and went running to the door, which led to an outdoor staircase. Matthew followed him.

Arthur and Gilbert took off running, chasing after them. He followed them down the staircase, gaining on them. Except the two, once at the bottom of the staircase, took an unexpected, sharp left turn. That was why it was hard to chase the ten year olds down, because of how unexpected each movement they made was.

"How are we supposed to catch _both_ of them?" Gilbert exclaimed, panting.

"We don't," Arthur stared, "we only need to catch one, the other will stop when we do."

As they ran down the cobblestone street, Arthur noticed that there were two pathways, one to the right, one to the left. Matthew darted to the left, as Alfred darted to the right. Arthur, who was closer to the right entryway, followed Alfred, pointing in Matthew's direction. "Get Matthew!" He yelled to Gilbert.

There was one good thing about this situation, which was that Alfred was still running in the direction of the docks, so, no matter if he caught the younger sibling of the twins or not, they would still end up on _The Raven._ Alfred made a left turn into a busy market street. Arthur slowed slightly, then noticed something. A group of four men, each of them wearing red uniforms, and each carrying muskets. The four were lead by one captain, someone who would know who Arthur was.

Arthur didn't waste time. He sprinted forward, pushing through people, not caring if he knocked them over. His heart raced, but he was closer to Alfred now. He began to run with his head down, trying to keep his face unrecognizable. He reached out and caught Alfred by the forearm, and pulled him over. Arthur, then, turned to the right, pulling him away from the guards who were marching by, and into the crowd.

"Dad, I'm sorry—"

"Be quiet." Arthur ordered.

"Dad—"

"I'm serious, Alfred, shut up." He replied in a scolding tone. He was hoping that he would look like an angry father, scolding his son. The guards walked by without a word.

Arthur let out a sigh as he watched the guards turn the corner, and out of sight.

"Dad—"

"Be quiet." Arthur interrupted again, tightening his grip on his son's arm.

"Ow! You're hurting my arm!" Alfred complained.

Arthur hated himself for ever giving his son pain, but he couldn't let go of Alfred, for he would probably run off again. He pulled Alfred along, walking through alleyways, staying out of sight of the guard's patrol.

Suddenly he heard running, and Gilbert yelling, "Get back here!"

Arthur saw Matthew turn a corner, just to run past Arthur, or, at least try to. He caught Matthew by the forearm, just as he did Alfred a few moments ago. Without a word to Matthew, he began to pull him in the direction of _The Raven._

.

Alfred didn't try running off again. Was it a bit overdramatic to run off the way he and Matthew did? Definitely, but in his mind, if he was on the ship before Dad, then somehow it would be better then being walked back to the ship, and nagged to the whole way. But this is worse. Not only did he sneak off the ship, but he ran from his father when he tried to get them back. And Alfred just couldn't wait to see his father's reaction when he finds out that he and Matthew bought and drank whiskey, and probably over paid for it too.

Alfred glanced to Matthew, _We're in so much trouble,_ he thought.

* * *

 **Hey, finally, an update!**

 **Seriously, I'm sorry it took so long to update, I've been dealing with writer's block, plus my school hasn't been that kind to me. Also, I apologize for the length of this chapter. Usually chapters of this story are much shorter, I did not anticipate for it to be so lengthy, but I hope you still liked it.**

 **~Feliks Out! (^J^)**


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Francis could just tell by the expression on Arthur's face that he wasn't in the best mood. The captain had a dim look in his eye, and dark circles beneath them, marking another bad night of sleep for the man. Francis wondered why Arthur had such trouble sleeping, but whenever he asked, the Englishman always refused to answer.

"What are you doing over here, Francis?" Arthur asked slowly, glancing at him.

"I'm the first mate, I'm supposed to be here." Francis replied, slightly confused by the question.

Arthur looked back to the sea, "Didn't I tell you to keep an eye on the new recruits?"

" _Capitaine_ ," Francis began, "I am, their on the main deck. They'll notice if I'm looming over their shoulder."

Arthur didn't reply.

"Arthur, what's wrong?"

"I don't trust them," Arthur replied, narrowing his eyes in their direction.

Francis couldn't help but laugh, "That's not surprising, you don't even trust me."

Arthur turned his head to look at him, "I trust you with the life of my sons, Francis." He pointed out.

"How long did it take?" Francis quarried.

"Not very long, I began to trust you before I called you my First Mate." Arthur explained easily.

"You did?" Francis exclaimed.

"If I didn't," Arthur started, "then I wouldn't have trusted you with my ship and crew."

"You got a point," Francis agreed, taking a moment to think of the next part of his argument, "what about Ludwig?"

"It didn't take me that long, either, even with disregarding the recent events," Arthur replied, "I still trust him, our friendship is just a bit shaken."

Francis hummed, "Gilbert?"

Arthur paused for a long moment, "It took me longer than his brother."

Francis sighed, "What's so suspicious about Thomas and Quentin?"

"They don't seem honest, and they always look like they're studying something. Studying my ship, you, me, my boys," Arthur explained, "Whatever they're doing, I don't like it."

"You have trust issues," Francis began casually, walking over to the stairs and sitting on them, "sure, have they passed my judgement? No, not yet, but you can calm down about it."

Arthur glanced at him again, anger in his eyes, but he again didn't reply. He instead took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment, then staring back to the sea, probably searching for any kind of danger on the horizon.

Francis turned his head to the new recruits, who were working on the main deck, aiding Gilbert and Ludwig with minor repairs. Or at least Thomas was. Quentin was sitting on a crate that still needed to be brought into storage, and was holding a cup, probably full of water. As Arthur described, he didn't seem to be watching people work and zoning out while he was on break, but seemed to be _watching_ people. Studying them. Giving a glance here and there to Alistair in the nest, and Kiku, who was pacing around the deck, making sure everything was going smoothly. Quentin was watching the people that he _knew_ Arthur trusted with both his ship, and his life. Francis noted that this was unsettling, but it was probably a misunderstanding, he's probably just zoning out.

Nevertheless, Francis stood and paced down the stairs without a word to Arthur. He walked straight to the younger of the recruits, and stood in front of him. He noticed that while he was walking up, Quentin was studying him, staring at his sword for a long moment, then his pistol, until he finally made eye contact.

"Yes, First Mate?" Quentin asked in an innocent tone.

Francis narrowed his eyes, "What are you doing?"

"I'm taking a break, sir."

"Get back to work." Francis ordered bitterly. He saw Gilbert turn and look and look to him.

"Francis, the man's been working hard," Gilbert countered, "he's new, give him a little slack."

Francis shook his head, "At this moment we have more enemies than ever, this ship needs to be in the best condition at all times. Which means that we're all going to have to work a little harder."

"No offense, sir," Thomas began, butting in, "but you don't seem to be doing much."

Francis narrowed his eyes, " _Excuse-toi?_ "

"I…" Thomas began, hesitating before he continued, "don't speak French."

"I said, 'excuse you?'" Francis translated, "What did you just say to me?"

Thomas gave Francis a nervous look, seemingly unsure how to reply.

"What's going on?" Francis heard Arthur call from behind him. It was always reassuring that the captain was on his side, but it was a bit annoying, because, apparently, he couldn't handle the situation himself.

"I can handle this, _Capitaine._ " Francis replied, hearing his own annoyance in his voice.

Although Francis' reassurance, Arthur came striding over, Kiku taking control of the ship. Arthur stood silent for a moment, glancing from one person to the next, until his eyes landed on Gilbert, "Gilbert, what happened?"

"Well, Quentin—" Thomas began.

"My memory must be going, because I do _not_ remember addressing you!" Arthur hissed, interrupting the recruit. He hesitated for a moment, before repeating, " _Gilbert_ , what happened?"

Francis put his hands in the pockets of his large blue coat, and listened as Gilbert explained the story just how it unfolded.

"So what do you want them to do?" Gilbert asked, "Take a break or get back to work?"

Arthur nodded towards Francis, "Francis is right, I have more enemies than ever now, we need to be as prepared as possible." He looked to Thomas and Quentin, "Get back to work."

"Captain—" Quentin tried to argue.

Arthur turned and walked back to the helm, ignoring Quentin's protest, and Francis followed him.

.

Arthur sat at his desk, a single lamp on, studying the map in front of him. His eyes were a bit droopy, and he let out a yawn. _Call it a night, Arthur, you didn't sleep last night,_ he advised himself, rubbing his hands on his face. He glanced at his sons, who were both sound asleep in their hammocks. He stood and stretched, then froze.

Every night he always the last one to go to bed, he makes sure of that. _Always_. However, Arthur could've sworn he heard someone walking around on one of the decks. He definitely recognized the sound of the stairs leading up from below deck creaking. He quietly walked to the entrance of his quarters, putting his hand on the door handle, and giving a light touch to the sword at his hip, making sure it was still there. He opened the door.

"Captain!" Thomas exclaimed, looking a bit spooked, "I didn't expect to see you up at such a late hour."

Arthur stared at the recruit, "I was working."

"On what?"

"None of your damn business." Arthur snapped, narrowing his eyes.

"My apologies, Captain, it's not my place to ask." Thomas said, starting to turn and walk back below deck.

"What were you doing up here?" Arthur asked.

Thomas stopped and turned back to Arthur, "Oh, I was going to apologize for the spat between us earlier."

Arthur tightened his grip on the door handle, "But you didn't know I was up…"

At first Thomas looked stumped, but he finally did reply, "I was going to wake you, I was just surprised you were already awake."

"Well, there's no need to apologise to me," Arthur started, "you more pissed off Francis, but I wouldn't bother him until morning."

"Oh, I'll just go and talk to him now—"

"I said to talk to him in the morning." Arthur restated, "If I find out you didn't, you will be in trouble with me."

"Yes, Captain." Thomas said slowly, "But I'm not sure why it matters…"

Arthur leaned against the doorway to his room, "Bonnefoy, just like all of my crew, must have as much energy as possible. We're at a time where I have more enemies than ever, so we all need our sleep. Including you and your brother. Get some rest, Thomas."

"Yes, Captain." Thomas walked below deck.

Although Arthur pretended to buy the apology, he definitely didn't trust him. He didn't sound like he was telling the truth. And although pretended not to notice, Thomas had glanced through the doorway, at Alfred and Matthew. He ground his teeth together, staring at the spot he last saw the suspicious recruit. He turned, closed, and locked the door to his quarters, and went to sleep.

.

The morning was strange, especially because two people that Dad didn't trust were currently sitting with Matthew and Alfred. Matthew glanced between Quentin and Thomas, and continued eating his porridge. Contrasting Alfred's endless talking, Matthew stayed very quiet, he'd rather be talking with Kiku, Alistair, or Gilbert. The morning was also strange because Dad let them sleep in pretty late, which is why they were eating so late in the day.

"So what's your opinion on Kirkland?" Quentin asked, prompting either Matthew or his brother to speak.

Matthew glanced to Alfred, but didn't answer.

"What do you mean?" Alfred asked, tilting his head to the side.

"What do you think of him?" Quentin rephrased.

Alfred opened his mouth to speak, but Matthew cut him off, "He's alright." He knew that Quentin and Thomas, just like all new recruits, weren't to be trusted. If they're asked questions, stay vague, or just not answer. Alfred sometimes forgets these rules, that's why Matthew interrupted him. He glanced to his brother, and Alfred gave a nod, telling him that he understood why Matthew cut him off.

"What about you, Al?" Thomas asked.

"Only Matthew can call me 'Al.'" Alfred replied, ignoring Thomas' question.

"Sorry," Thomas apologised, "I didn't know."

"It's alright." Alfred said with a smile.

"Anyway, what's your opinion on Kirkland?" Quentin questioned.

Matthew stared at Quentin, but didn't say anything. He trusted Alfred to give a broad answer.

"He's a good captain, and keeps us safe." Alfred replied. Matthew noted it sounded a little scripted, but hopefully Thomas and Quentin wouldn't notice.

"What about you?" Matthew asked.

Thomas shrugged, "It just seems that Kirkland has it out for us," He began, nodding towards Quentin, "I don't know why he would, sure, we don't see eye-to-eye, but who really gets along with their boss, right?"

"I don't know, Kirkland and I get along pretty well." Alfred said, almost like he was bragging.

Quentin took a bite of porridge. "Well, I guess he's easy on kids."

Matthew shook his head, but it was Alfred who went into further explanation, "No, we do just about as much as Li Xiao. Also we train everyday, around late afternoon and into dinnertime."

"Really?" Thomas asked, leaning forward a little, "What about after dinner?"

Alfred shrugged, "I don't know, I guess Mattie and I don't do much. We go to bed not long after, though."

Thomas and Quentin shared a glance, "When does he go to bed?"

"He's the last one to go to bed." Alfred answered quickly.

"About what time is that?"

Matthew quickly noticed that he and Alfred's bowls were empty, and that it was later in the day, so if they want to be done with their work by training, they have to start now. And that would be a good excuse to get away from the conversation. Something didn't seem right. Matthew stood a bit faster than he meant to, and grabbed both his and Alfred's bowls, "Al, we have to get our work done if we want to be done by training."

"But I want to keep talking!" Alfred protested.

"Well we won't have training if we're not done with our work." Matthew didn't wait for his twin, he walked away quickly, and gave the dirty bowls back to Yao, "And I'm not going to miss out on training because of your lazy ass." He added.

"Since when do you cuss?" Alfred said, trying to procrastinate.

"I cuss as much as you do," Matthew explained, "always behind Kirkland's back."

"Why does he care?" Quentin asked, "He has the most foul mouth out of all of us."

Matthew stared at Quentin, then to Thomas, and walked away, giving a tug to Alfred's arm.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming." Alfred groaned, standing up and following him.

Matthew quickly ascended the stairs, hearing Thomas and Quentin murmur to themselves after they left.

"What was all that about?" Alfred questioned irritably.

Matthew turned to his brother, "How about you ask them!" He exclaimed quietly, "Why were they asking all that stuff? Why do they care when Dad goes to bed? Why do they care about our opinions about him?"

"You're sounding like Dad, Mattie." Alfred stated in an annoyed tone, beginning to walk off.

Matthew caught his brother by the shoulder, and turned him back to him, "I think that's a good thing. Dad is very careful."

"Dad's not careful," Alfred argued, "he's paranoid."

Matthew shook his head, "Well it keeps him, and us safe."

Alfred crossed his arms, "They haven't done anything, I don't know why you're being so paranoid."

"They keep asking personal things about Dad—"

"Dad?" Thomas asked, suddenly at the entrance to the stairs that lead to the galley.

Matthew jumped when he saw the two, and hurriedly walked away, noticing that Alfred didn't follow. He stopped and eavesdropped on the conversation a little, and heard that Alfred lied and said that Francis was their father. He continued walking, deciding that he should go to Francis and inform him that he's their "dad," or at least for now.

He started up the stairs to the helm, and noticed that Dad wasn't there, and Francis was piloting the ship. He looked back to the main deck, and realized Kiku wasn't to be found. The two were probably talking in Dad's quarters.

Matthew stopped at the top of the stairs for a moment, then strode to the first mate, "Francis."

" _Oui, mon chou_ , what is it?" Francis asked, looking down to him.

"I need to talk to you." Matthew made sure that his tone sounded serious.

"Does this need to be private? I can get Alistair to pilot for a little bit."

Matthew looked to the main deck, where Alfred was distracting Li Xiao, and Thomas and Quentin were finally doing some work with Gilbert and Ludwig. "No," He shook his head.

Francis nodded, "Okay, what's this about?"

"Thomas and Quentin… And you." Matthew answered.

Francis turned his head to him, looking more interested, "What about them?"

"When we were eating in the galley," Matthew began, "they kept asking Al and I about Dad."

Francis looked away, and to the recruits, "What were they asking you?"

"It started with just our opinion of him." Matthew said.

"What did these questions lead to?" Francis asked, his tone very stern.

"They asked about mine and Al's work schedule, then about when we go to bed… Then when Dad goes to bed…" Matthew explained.

Francis was silent for a long moment. His grip tightened on the wheel, "Alistair," He yelled, "get down here and pilot!"

"Why?" Alistair argued.

"Just get down here!" Francis replied, anger very apparent in his tone. He turned to Matthew, "You said that this involves me?"

"Well, after Al and I left, we started arguing, and they overheard us say 'Dad,' and asked us about it," Matthew paused, "Alfred lied to them and said that you were our father."

Francis looked a little confused, but nodded, "That was very smart not to tell them the truth about that. I'll keep that in mind, and let Arthur know."

"What's going on?" Alistair asked, coming up the stairs.

Francis leaned over to the redhead, and they began to whisper to one another. Matthew guessed that Francis was explaining what had happened. The Frenchman turned back to Matthew, "Stay at the helm with Alistair."

"Al and I were going to clean the floorboards of the main deck." Matthew responded, pointing at the main deck.

"Well switch with Li Xiao and clean the floorboards up here." Francis ordered.

"He's not going to be very happy about that." Matthew muttered.

"I don't care, tell him it was ordered by me, and I'll explain it to him later." Francis said, walking down the stairs, "Alfred, go to the helm!" He ordered.

"Am I in trouble?" Alfred yelled back.

"Go to the helm!" Francis repeated, disappearing in Dad's quarters.

.

Francis burst into Arthur's quarters, looking panicked. He slammed the door closed behind him, saying, "We have problems!"

Arthur stood from his desk, giving a glance to Kiku, who took a few steps closer to Francis, uncrossing his arms, "What is is, Francis?" Kiku asked, putting his hand on Francis' shoulder, "Are there enemies on the horizon?"

"No, we have civil problems!" Francis exclaimed.

"Thomas and Quentin?" Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow.

" _Oui!_ "

"What happened?" Arthur demanded.

"They were in galley with the boys—"

"Are they okay?" Arthur interrupted, his hand shooting down to the handle of his cutlass.

"The boys are fine," Francis began, "they were only taking with them."

Arthur narrowed his eyes slightly, "About what?"

"They were asking them about you," Francis began, "asking about their work schedule, when you go to bed, things like that."

This must be a common thing for those who are planning a mutiny, or an assassination. Arthur could remember fellow crew members coming to him when he was young, and asking him questions about his own father. However, Arthur was probably more willing to give answers than the twins were. "What do they know?"

"I'm not sure, when Matthew talked to me about it, he only told me about the questions that were asked, not the answers given." Francis explained, "I'm assuming they know everything they asked about."

Arthur crossed his arms, trying to think.

"What should we do, _Capitaine?_ " Francis said in a pleading tone.

Arthur's eyebrows drew together in anger, "Put them in the fucking brig!" He exclaimed, beginning to walk out and do so.

"Captain," Kiku said, catching him by the shoulder, "I do not advise that."

"Then what do you advise?" Arthur yelled, turning to face Kiku.

"Although suspicious, Thomas and Quentin could just be curious. I remember you having similar discussions with me about Gilbert, but now he's one of your best friends," Kiku provided.

"Then what do you advise?" Arthur repeated bitterly.

"Give them some time," Kiku began, "their true intentions will be revealed. If you wish, I can do some sneaking around, and try to find anything suspicious, you know that I still retain the skills from my previous profession."

Arthur could feel himself calm a little. Although one side of his mind told him to lock up the recruits, and refuse to let them see the light of day ever again, the other side told him to trust Kiku. He closed his eyes, knowing that his rage was trying to force him into a rash decision, "You're right."

"What do you want me to do?" Kiku asked, letting go of his shoulder.

"It's still early in the day, I can keep Thomas and Quentin above deck, if you'll go and try to uncover something." Arthur proposed.

"Sound like a deal," Kiku commented, "thoughts, Francis?"

"I agree," Francis began, "there's definitely something going on that we are unaware of. Kiku, don't put yourself in any kind of danger unless you know you won't get caught."

"I won't." Kiku promised.

"Then yes, I think this is our best option." Francis stated.

"Good," Arthur began, glancing to Francis, "is there anything else you need to tell me?"

" _Oui,_ " Francis paused, "Thomas and Quentin overheard Matthew and Alfred say something about their father. Alfred lied told them that I was their father."

Arthur stared at Francis in confusion, "Alright, then. Make sure that they address you as such until this is figured out."

Francis nodded, and opened the door, "Alright, I'll let them know." He walked off, closing the door.

Arthur turned his attention back to Kiku, "We'll have to put our meeting on hold," he began, "stay safe."

"It's not like I'm sneaking around an enemy's ship, Arthur," Kiku chuckled, "it'll be fine."

"They could be dangerous," Arthur pointed out, "it's not if they catch you in the act, but if they figure out that you were down there. So be careful."

Kiku pat him on the shoulder, "I will, I will." He reassured, "Why do I keep touching your shoulder?" He asked out of the blue.

Arthur smiled, "I really don't mind you touching me," He teased.

"Ah, thank you for making it weird, I'm going to go now." Kiku laughed, leaving Arthur's quarters.

Arthur chuckled, and followed him, closing the door to his quarters behind him.

.

The rest of the day went fairly well. Arthur wasn't bothered by Thomas or Quentin, and they were actually acting responsibly. If he wasn't so paranoid, Arthur would say that there wasn't anything suspicious about them, but since he is so paranoid, he's keeping the boys in Francis' quarters. If they are truly planning something, Alfred and Matthew have to stay safe.

Arthur wasn't sleeping tonight, he had planned that after given the news from Francis. He checked over his supplies, money, he read his book, and cleaned his pistol until now, where he was mindlessly staring at his map, pretending to do something important. He closed his eyes, his tiredness overbearing, and he could feel himself relax in his chair. He snapped his eyes open, and blinked a few times before yawning and stretching. He glanced to his hammock, which was inviting him to sleep, but he shook his head, and opened his book, and started reading again.

Until he heard movement outside. He slowly closed his book and blew out the lantern that was illuminating his room, and stood, backing up against the wall. His eyes were glued to the door, which he left unlocked. His hand traveled down to the hilt of his cutlass, but he didn't remove it from it's scabbard.

The door handle turned, and was slowly opened. Arthur didn't move. In the darkness of his quarters, especially in the corner where his desk was located, it would be hard to see him. The figure in the doorway walked in, being careful to stay silent, seemingly not noticing Arthur's presence. Arthur started towards the door, making sure to keep his footsteps silent, and to avoid the creaks in the floorboards; he knew where each creak was located.

He made it to the open door, and quickly slammed it closed, the figure jumping and turning. Arthur pulled a match out of his pocket, and lit the lantern that was hanging by the door.

"K-Kirkland!" Thomas exclaimed, his right hand behind his back.

Arthur narrowed his eyes, "Thomas."

"I, uh—"

"Let me guess," Arthur interrupted, taking a few steps forward, "you can explain?"

Thomas's right hand came back into view and he put both arms out in front of him, "Yes, I can—"

"Then why are you in here?" Arthur growled.

"I needed to talk to you, there's an emergency!" Thomas exclaimed, looking panicked.

"What?" Arthur demanded.

"Your first mate, Francis, is dead!"

Arthur drew his sword, pointing it at the recruit, "If he was dead, then why did you wake me up first? Why isn't anyone else up? And why would you bother sneaking around my quarters?"

Thomas looked stumped, "Uh—"

Arthur scoffed, "I know what you are up to, I know the signs. I like how you asked my cabin boys for information on me, to see when I go to bed, when I get up, when it's the right moment for you to strike!"

"What are you talking about?" Thomas exclaimed, "Francis is dead, why are you blaming this on me?"

"If Francis is truly dead, then you are to blame!" Arthur accused, "I know what you and Quentin's mission is, to kill me!"

Thomas took a few steps back, "What? That's preposterous! Captain I—"

Arthur pulled a paper out of the pocket inside his coat, "Really? Because here's your mission written in the handwriting of an enemy of mine," He pointed to the bottom of the paper, "and you and Quentin both signed it."

Thomas, after a long moment of glancing from Arthur, and to the paper, pulled a dagger out, "You went through my stuff!"

"This is my ship," Arthur began, smiling, "it's not yours anymore."

"God damn you!" Thomas hissed.

Arthur's smile grew, "How thoughtful, I could use a trip back home."

Thomas advanced on him, thrusting the dagger forward, but Arthur blocked it with his sword easily. After dodging a few attacks, and blocking a few others, Arthur saw an opening, and stabbed the assassin in the side, through the ribcage, and into the right lung. He pushed Thomas off his sword, and he fell to the ground.

Arthur's eyes blazed in hatred, "I'm leaving you alive," Thomas coughed hard, crimson blood appearing on his lips, "for now." he added, narrowing his eyes, "If Francis is alive, I'll put you out of your misery," Arthur paused, squatting down to the assassin's level, "if he's not, I'll make you suffer 'till your last breath!" He took the dagger from Thomas, and jogged out of his quarters, locking them behind him.

He sprinted down the stairs, and to Francis' quarters below deck. He froze when he saw the door open. Arthur, again, walked silently, his feet gliding over the floorboards so he wasn't heard. He got to the doorway, and saw Quentin, hovering over Francis, who lay asleep, a dagger over his head, about to bring it down into his first mate's chest.

Arthur pulled his pistol out of it's holster, aimed, and shot the assassin in the chest, Francis flinching awake, and falling out of his hammock. Alfred and Matthew mimicking the same movements from the Frenchman.

Quentin fell to the floor, gripping his chest, coughing hard. Arthur walked forward, bent down, and took the assassin by the lapels, and drug him out of the room, and threw him down the stairs that went even further below deck, and into storage. He heard running footsteps behind him, so Arthur drew his sword and turned to the sound, only to see Ludwig stopping, just an inch from his sword, his hands up in a silent surrender.

"What the fuck is going on?" Francis demanded.

"Thomas and Quentin are assassins," Arthur stated bluntly, looking down the staircase to Quentin, who was groaning on the floor, "And neither one of them are allowed to live."

Arthur descended the staircase slowly. Once at the bottom, he stabbed Quentin through the back with such a force, his sword got caught in the floorboards. After a moment of just letting himself breathe, he pulled the sword out of the floor, and paced up the stairs, and to his quarters.

Arthur unlocked the door, and kicked it open, seeing Thomas flinch at the sound. Without a word to the assassin, he took him by the lapels, and drug him out to the main deck, where he saw most of his crew gathered, including his sons.

"Please," Thomas begged, "you're not as evil as you seem, have mercy, I know you can!" He coughed and tried to crawl away.

"Not to assassins!" Arthur growled, bending down, taking him by the back of the collar, and slitting his throat.

There was a long moment of silence, and the only thing that Arthur heard was the sound of the waves. "Francis," Arthur said quietly, looking up to his first mate, "get a few men to dispose of the bodies."

"Yes, _Capitaine_."

Arthur looked to the rest of his crew, "Is anyone else a part of this assassination?" He demanded, "If you are, I suggest coming clean, I'll have more mercy on you if you do so."

There was silence on the ship.

"Good," Arthur concluded, wiping the blood from his sword, "don't let me find out that any of you are lying."

Arthur turned at his sons, who had both a look of horror and amazement on their faces. He glanced to the sky, to see that it was nearing dawn, "Everyone, try to get a little sleep, I have a feeling that tomorrow is going to be a long day."

* * *

 **Translations:**

 _ **Capitaine- (French) Captain**_

 _ **Excuse-toi- (French) Excuse you**_

 _ **Oui, mon chou- (French) Yes my sweet/sweetie/dear**_

 _ **Oui- (French) Yes**_

 **Another long chapter, sorry that I'm going over my usual length, but this might be a permanent thing, so if you don't like long chapters, I'm sorry.**

 **Action is always fun to write, and as always, if any of my pirate lingo/translations are wrong, please let me know in the comments, and I will fix it as soon as possible.**

 **~Feliks Out! (^J^)**


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

There was no doubt that Dad's trust was shaken after the events of last week. Sure, it was two newer guys who planned the assassination, but Matthew could just tell. Dad didn't distance himself from others, but it was the subtle ways he restricted Matthew and his brother from certain people, the only exceptions being those who were closest to him.

Matthew understood. A pirate's life was a dangerous one, and after an attempted assassination, suspicion was bound to rise. So the only thing Matthew could do was try to make the best of it. Dad had been keeping he and Alfred closer recently, and teaching them newer things, which is why Alfred was piloting the ship. Matthew stood to his right, waiting his turn.

"This isn't as hard as I thought." Alfred boasted, a large smile on his face, looking up to Dad who was standing to his left, "With the ship being so big, I thought it would be harder."

"The seas are calm today," Dad said, almost as if he was reporting it, "not as choppy as it's been."

"I doubt that's why it's so easy," Alfred began, "it's a natural-born skill."

"Really?" Matthew replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"Of course!" Alfred continued, "That's why _I_ will make the better captain when we inherit the ship."

"What?" Matthew exclaimed, "You will not make the better captain!"

Dad laughed a little.

Alfred turned his head back to him, a serious look on his face, "Dad, who will you choose to be captain when we inherit the ship?"

"It depends." Dad said slowly, "This isn't a decision I would make right now. You are much too young to know your true potential."

"What if you were going to die, like, right now?" Alfred asked.

"Just keel over?" Dad exclaimed, a look of shock on his face, "I'm far too healthy to do that."

"This is just a 'what if,'" Matthew started, "what would happen?"

Dad shook his head with a smile, "Francis would become captain."

"When would that change?" Alfred asked.

"Why do you keep asking?" Dad replied, "Are you planning on killing me or something?"

"Maybe." Alfred muttered in a joking tone.

"That would change when Francis and I decide it does." Dad said, answering Alfred's original question.

Matthew blinked slowly, staring up at Dad, actually considering the future for once. Whenever he thought about his future pirate life, he would think about how his first raid would go, or when he would be able to man a cannon, not who would end up being captain of the ship. It was a bit unnerving. How the hell would he ever be able to run the ship like Dad did? Or live up to the Kirkland name?

Matthew opened his mouth to ask a question, but his attention was caught by the sound of Alistair yelling down, "Captain, someone's on the horizon!"

Dad was quiet for a long moment, his eyes staring forward, "A threat?" He asked.

Matthew put a hand up to his forehead, blocking the sun's light from his eyes so he could see Alistair clearer. The redhead now had his back to them, searching through his telescope.

"I can't tell yet," Allie replied, "I'll update you."

"Alfred, give me the wheel." Dad ordered in a calm tone.

Matthew felt a little jealousy rising in him, but this was serious, right? It was supposed to be his turn though… "Dad, I—"

"You'll have your turn later," Dad interrupted, turning the ship a little off course, "I don't know how this is going to go down."

"Okay." Matthew muttered, a little disappointed, but understood. He looked to the main deck to see Francis emerge from below deck, chattering with Kiku. Matthew wondered what they were talking about. Probably adult stuff.

"Hey, do you know that Ranson guy?" Alistair called, pulling Matthew's attention back to the sky.

"Who?" Matthew asked quietly, looking up to Dad, who wore the same confused expression.

"Never heard of him." Dad replied.

"That new guy who thinks he's all that?" Alistair continued, probably trying to jog Dad's memory.

Dad groaned loudly, slouching his shoulders, and closing his eyes, "Really? You must be screwing with me, Skirt, it's that cocky arsehole?"

"Sure as hell looks like it."

Matthew heard Dad mutter something under his breath, but couldn't quite make it out. He turned to the stairs, seeing Francis climbing them. Before Matthew could greet the Frenchman, his attention was pulled back over to his father.

"Boys—"

"Hey, Arthur, they're trying to flag us down." Alistair interrupted, "How do you want to respond?"

Dad let out a loud laugh, "Ignore them, they'll get the message that I'm not interested."

"What were you going to say, Dad?" Alfred asked.

"Right," Dad paused, "you may have to go to my quarters, depending on how this goes down. Just be ready."

Matthew didn't like hiding in Dad's quarters whenever something went slightly wrong. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to learn and become a great pirate if he was always hiding away. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before he finally spoke up, "Dad, could Al and I stay out here with you? I mean, if this starts to go badly."

"No." Dad's tone was forceful, but not angry, "It's far too dangerous."

"But how are we supposed to learn?" Matthew exclaimed.

"Yeah, how can we learn if we're always hiding?" Alfred added loudly.

Dad shook his head, "We're not having this discussion right now," he paused, "nothing's going to happen."

"Arthur, there's a few threats floating around!" Alistair yelled down.

"Threats?" Dad laughed, "Who in the right mind would threaten me?"

"How do you want to respond?"

"Ignore them." Dad ordered again.

Matthew began to grow slightly nervous. His palms sweat a little, and his heartbeat began to quicken. If there were threats, then would this escalate into something dangerous? If so, how the hell would he be able to talk Dad into letting him stay out here?

" _Capitaine_ , they're loading a cannon." Francis, who was standing on the other side of Dad, reported. Honestly, Matthew forgot he had walked up.

"One cannon?" Dad started mockingly, "How cute."

" _Oui_." Francis replied, pointing at the other ship.

"They wouldn't dare…" Dad said quietly, disbelief in his voice.

The cannon on the other ship fired, a small cloud of smoke coming from it. The cannonball flew through the air, missing _The Raven_ , but not by much. Matthew felt himself flinch when the cannonball came so close, and it made him reconsider his argument a little. It was dangerous to stay out here.

"That bloody prick!" Dad yelled, angrily turning the wheel of the ship. The massive ship started sailing towards the other pirate, when Dad ordered something else, "No sail and anchor down!" He paused, "If they want to talk to me so bad, they can get their arses over here!"

Matthew observed all the men following the orders with a quick pace. The sails were tied up, cutting them from the wind, and the anchor stopped the ship's movement.

"Boys, to my quarters, now."

"But Dad—" Alfred started in a pleading tone.

"—we want to stay out here!" Matthew finished, matching the tone of voice Alfred held.

"To my quarters now." Dad repeated forcefully.

"But please," Alfred begged, "how are we supposed to learn?"

"Please Dad!" Matthew exclaimed.

Dad turned to them, "No. It's far too dangerous.

" _Capitaine,_ may I speak?" Francis asked.

Dad stared at him, a look of confusion on his face, "Always, Francis."

"I agree with them," Francis paused, "They're ten, yes, but you've taught them to fight, and they fight well for their age… You said they fight better than you did when you were ten."

"That's because—"

Francis didn't let Dad finished, "I know," he said, "they started learning younger than you did, I know… What I'm saying is there's more than enough men on this ship who can protect them, and they can hold their own if forced to… They need to learn what to do someday, and you can't shelter them too much, or they'll never learn."

Dad's stare turned into a hard glare, but eventually softened. He looked down to Matthew, then shifted his gaze to Alfred, then to Matthew, and back to Alfred. He let out a long sigh, "Do you have your daggers on you?"

"Yes." Matthew replied quickly, hope growing inside him.

"Keep them concealed, but close," Dad ordered, "don't say a word, and I'll have someone stay close to you." He bent down closer to their level, his voice growing more forceful and serious, "Do not say a word," He repeated, "do you understand?"

"Why can't we talk?" Alfred asked.

"This could be very dangerous," Dad explained, "the adults will do the talking, do you understand?"

"What if they directly ask us a question?" Matthew muttered, growing nervous.

"Don't answer, I'll handle it. Pretend you're mute or something, whatever helps." Dad answered, "And remember, you're cabin boys… Go to the main deck."

"Yes sir." Alfred and Matthew replied simultaneously, running down the stairs.

Matthew bent down on his knees, over by a bucket of water, where Li Xiao was previously cleaning. He was asked to move and go below deck with Yao. This way it made it look like he and Alfred were working.

He could hear Dad yelling something, but he wasn't really paying attention. Something about the other pirate boarding him? Matthew wasn't sure. His mind was too busy with the "what ifs" that could go wrong. But Francis was right. He and Alfred could hold their own, especially if fighting together. Nothing would go wrong though, because Dad never lost control of any situation. He was always in control of every situation. Always.

"You've got some nerve, thinking _you_ can board _me!_ " Dad yelled, storming up to the other pirate, who must be this Ranson guy that was mentioned earlier.

Ranson looked appalled, "Who are you?" He asked Dad.

"Arthur Kirkland."

Ranson laughed loudly, folding his arms around his ribs, and bending over a little. Matthew and Alfred exchanged a look of confusion. What was so funny? Dad just said his name.

"What?" Matthew heard Dad growl in a deep, threatening tone.

"You must be some confused First Mate or something," Ranson began, "you're obviously not Arthur Kirkland."

"Then who would be?" Dad demanded.

Ranson didn't answer the question, he just walked past Dad, and shook Francis' hand, "I'm honored to meet you, Captain Kirkland."

Francis smiled, but it looked sympathetic, "You poor man," he began, making his accent sound thicker, "you have the wrong guy… Arthur Kirkland isn't French."

"Why did he mistake Francis for Dad?" Alfred whispered very quietly.

Matthew gave a shrug in reply, looking to Dad, who gave them a warning glance. So Dad heard the whisper, even from that far?

"Listen… Ranson is it?" Dad asked, a playful tone in his voice.

Ranson hesitated, "…Yes."

Dad put an arm around Ranson's shoulders, "Listen Ranson, since you're new, I'm going to give you five strikes, because you don't know any better… Let's see how many times you've fucked up already…" Dad paused for a long moment, "I can forgive trying to flag me down, that was a freebee," He paused again, his voice growing angry, "you fired a warning shot, you boarded my ship, and you mistook my First Mate for me… That's three out of five strikes, Ranson. Fuck up wisely."

Ranson pushed Dad off of him, "Listen to me, _Kirkland_ ," he spat, like the name was a disease, "I haven't done anything wrong."

"You threatened me," Dad recalled, "you came onto my ship, and started acting like a total arse. All after I let you become a pirate on my seas."

" _Your_ seas?" Ranson exclaimed, "That's quite the ego you got there."

"No." Dad said quickly, "You have an ego, I have status… There's a difference."

Matthew would always watch through the window of Dad's quarters whenever he went onto someone else's ship, walked around, and demanded certain things. Now, he had a different approach. He still seemed boastful, and arrogant, but he wasn't walking around like he owned the place. He was staying generally still, standing between Ranson and the rest of the crew. Protectively.

Ranson crossed his arms, "What's the difference?"

"Ego is an illusion of grandeur, something you think you are, but not actually," Dad paused, "I have status, something I earned through hard work. It's something that I am, and that people know me for... It's a reputation. A position of importance."

"Whatever." Ranson grumbled, wandering around the ship.

"Where are you going?" Dad hissed.

"Just walking, Kirkland."

"No, no, no," Dad replied, walking in front of Ranson, "I know that move, I do it all the time. You're acting as though this is your ship… It's not."

Ranson's eyebrows raised, "Oh? What are you going to do?" He challenged, stepping past Dad.

Matthew could feel anxiety rise inside his chest, and he gripped the hilt of his dagger, but kept it hidden. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up, seeing Uncle Allie standing right above him. He must've climbed down from the nest earlier, when the ship was being boarded. It was comforting that Allie was close, and would protect them if anything went wrong.

Dad's hand shot down to his cutlass, "Don't challenge me."

Ranson laughed, "Does that go on my fuck up record?"

"Now it does."

"Oh! I get it!" Ranson exclaimed, "You won't do anything to me unless I fuck up enough times, right? So I can do whatever I want for now, right? I still have one fuck up!"

Dad caught the pirate by the arm, just above the elbow, "This isn't your ship, stop walking around her like she is."

"Make me." Ranson challenged again.

"Oh I would keel haul you if I could spare the rope." Dad growled.

Ranson laughed, and went to walk off, but Dad's grip on his arm tightened, "I might not keel haul you, but how about I tie you down to the bowsprit, slit your wrists and let you bleed into the sea…? Once I see some sharks trailing us, I'll toss you in and watch you get torn to shreds."

Ranson stared at him for a long moment, and Matthew could see a hint of fear in his eyes. Slowly, the other man managed to form a sentence, "My apologies, Captain."

A large, triumphant smile appeared on Dad's lips, "See, it only takes a little fear to whip someone into place…" He pat Ranson's back, "Now, to business… What do you want?"

Ranson managed to walk away from Dad, putting distance between him. He stood with the few men who boarded with him, and put his hands in his pockets casually, "I've noticed you've been making some friends, Kirkland. I want in."

"Friends is an exaggeration," Dad replied in a bored voice, "but no. You're not getting 'in.'"

"Why not? You made friends with that _woman_ Héderváry." Ranson spat in a disgusted tone.

"Excuse you?" Dad threatened, stepping closer, "What did you say?"

"Héderváry is a woman. Perhaps you've lost your mind, I mean… No successful pirate can be a woman. She's—"

"Weak?" Dad finished with a deep hiss, "Was that what you were going to say? That she's weak?"

"Yes!" Ranson exclaimed, making it sound obvious. "Yes! You understand! Then why would you ally with _her_ over someone better, like, I don't know, a _man?_ "

Matthew didn't understand the pirate's point. Héderváry seemed very capable of herself, even though she was a woman. He's heard rumors of her strength, and was even nervous when he watched his father and Francis cross onto her ship. Why would this man think otherwise just because she's a woman?

Dad let out a loud laugh. It lasted a while, and sounded sarcastic. "You really are stupid, aren't you?" He asked playfully.

"What?"

"You really are stupid, aren't you?" Dad yelled bitterly, "Stupider than I thought you were! Héderváry is strong, I only ally with those who are strong, that's why I won't ally with you. You're a sad excuse for a pirate… Héderváry has an elegance to her, the element of surprise that all men lack because of her figure and stature… Her ship has a beauty to it, it looks like a piece of art, looks as if it would sink in one hit, but she has defense armor similar to that of that one bounty hunter, Ivan Braginsky's ship."

"How long are you going to stand there and praise her?" Ranson grumbled, crossing his arms.

"My point is, you lack all traits that she possesses." Dad took a few steps forward, making Ranson step back, "She has strength, strategic intellect, speed, the element of surprise…" He trailed off for a moment, "She even has something I lack… The loyalty of her crew."

"You're saying your crew isn't loyal?" Ranson laughed, "Then I have nothing to worry about, they're no threat to me."

"That is where you're wrong," Dad paused for a long moment, folding his hands together behind his back, leaving his chest open, "I don't need loyalty, I have fear… Fear is much stronger than loyalty, Ranson. Loyalty can be broken over trivial things… Lies, women, money… Fear is much harder to break, isn't that right, Francis?" He finished, turning his head to the Frenchman.

"Of course _Capitaine!_ " Francis exclaimed, a bit too quickly.

Matthew wasn't exactly sure why Dad was boasting about Héderváry so much. She was just another pirate, no need for appraisal. Right? Did he always do this?

"Anyway," Dad said, looking back to Ranson, "if you hate Héderváry so much, then why try and ally with me?"

"I was thinking Héderváry could exit the picture." Ranson offered with a dark smirk.

Dad didn't laugh, nor did he show any expression. He stood still for a minute, an annoyed look on his face. He didn't seem to be considering the offer, but seemed to be considering how to respond. He simply replied with, "No."

"What?"

"No."

Ranson looked appalled, "You're not even going to consider?"

"No."

"Can you give me any explanation?" Ranson exclaimed, anger in his voice.

Dad crossed his arms, "I've already given it to you, haven't I? Héderváry is strong, you are not."

"You don't even—" Ranson cut himself off, closing his eyes tightly, pinching the bridge of his nose, and letting out a frustrated sigh, that sounded a bit more like a growl than a sigh, "Nevermind… How about this, I learn to deal with Héderváry, and we become allies."

"What's your opinion on Adnan?" Dad questioned, ignoring the negotiation.

"Who?"

Dad dropped his hands from the crossed position across his chest, "You don't know who Sadik Adnan is? My other ally?"

"Never heard of him." Ranson said, walking away again, apparently forgetting that he wasn't supposed to.

Dad gave a furious look, and followed him. Ranson eventually stopped walking, not very far from Matthew and his brother. Matthew started growing nervous, tightening his grip on the hilt of his dagger. His head was low, but he was staring Ranson in the face.

"He's that annoying Ottoman in the Southern Mediterranean." Dad explained, crossing his arms, "The one who parades around his money? He basically owns the Mediterranean down there."

"I thought you owned all the seas." Ranson teased.

"I can't be everywhere at once, believe it or not," Dad began, "I let him do a little ruling."

"I'll go talk to him, I guess."

"I don't suggest that." Dad replied in an emotionless tone, "After I finally get you off my ship, I'm going to tell him and Héderváry to attack you on sight. I'll tell them to give you a warning, but if you're feeling cocky, go ahead."

"Why? What have I done? I still have one fuck up before you can do stuff like that." Ranson argued.

"No, you have one fuck up before _I_ kill you."

Ranson turned his back on Dad, looking down at Matthew. He smirked, "Who are these two?"

"Cabin boys." Dad said flatly, "Back on topic—"

"They're a bit young," Ranson said, stating the obvious, "do you beat them like the rest of the crew?"

"I'm just," Dad started boastfully, "everyone is treated equally."

Ranson laughed loudly. As he calmed down, he looked to Matthew again. Matthew lowered his head to the ground, not wanting to be a part of what was going on. He just wanted to watch, and be left alone. But he felt someone's hand grab ahold of his jaw, and pull his head up.

He was now staring at Ranson again, who was smiling largely, "They are pretty, aren't they?"

Alfred jumped up angrily, and slapped Ranson's hand away, yelling, "Leave him alone!"

Before Dad, Alistair, or anyone could respond, Ranson backhanded Alfred across the face with a force that threw him onto the ground. Matthew slid over to his brother, to make sure he was okay. Alfred was rubbing his cheek, that was bright red from the hit. Matthew heard movement beside him, and saw Dad draw his dagger, and stab it into Ranson's rotator cuff, and slam him up against the mast with so much strength, Matthew could hear the wood of the mast split a little.

Ranson called out in pain, and the few members of his crew drew their weapons, but so did every member of Dad's crew. Even Matthew. He drew his dagger, but kept it low, afraid of drawing too much attention to himself.

"Tell your men to drop their weapons now." Dad growled in a calm rage.

Ranson didn't move or speak, so Dad twisted the blade, causing the other pirate to scream in pain, "Drop your weapons! Drop your weapons!"

Matthew watched as the other crew all sheathed their swords reluctantly. He looked back to Dad to see him only an inch from the other pirate's face, an unreadable look staring into Ranson's eyes.

"You listen very carefully," Dad hissed slowly, "I'm going to remove this dagger, and you're going to walk off my ship without a word or second thought, and you're going to leave. I suggest avoiding me by all means necessary, because if I see you in my range of fire, I'll make sure to drown your sorry arse." Dad twisted the blade more, "Understand?" He yelled.

"Yes! Yes! I understand!" Ranson cried.

Dad's voice raised, "When you leave you are not to look at anyone. Not your crew, and definitely not mine. If you even glance at my crew, especially my cabin boys," He emphasized, pointing at Matthew and his brother, "I'll make you pay. You are to keep your eyes to the floorboards. Understand?"

"Yes!"

Dad pulled the dagger from the pirate's rotator cuff, and Ranson quickly gained distance between them, walking away hurriedly. But before he went, however, he gave a side glance to Matthew and Alfred, making Matthew feel uneasy again.

And that was it. After that whole show, Matthew saw who his father pretended to be, and who his father has to deal with in his line of work. He saw what he would have to be like in the future, and how to do it correctly. Although, when Matthew turned his head to look at Dad, he saw the hate in his eye as he glared at the ship that was quickly leaving.

"Francis, load all canons and sink that ship to the bottom of the fucking ocean." Dad ordered in the same calm rage.

Francis seemed confused, and opened his mouth to reply, but Dad cut him off, "Now, Bonnefoy." He turned to Alfred and Matthew, taking them both by the wrists, standing them up, and walking them to his quarters.

"Dad, I'm sorry!" Alfred exclaimed desperately.

Dad didn't reply, he just kept dragging them to the quarters.

"Dad, really, I'm sorry! I know I wasn't supposed to speak, but—"

"I know why you did, you just need to go to my quarters, it's dangerous." Dad interrupted quickly, just before _The Raven_ shot her first canon.

Matthew walked through the door to Dad's quarters, Alfred right beside him. The door was closed when he heard Dad yell something, "Alistair, go below deck! After this battle, you and I are going to have a _long_ talk!"

.

The day was definitely thrilling, to say the least. After Arthur sunk the enemy ship, and made sure no one managed to escape in a rowboat, he went to talk with Alistair. He had assigned Alistair to stay beside the boys and make sure _nothing_ happened to them. Even a simple, little, insignificant backhand.

Sure, he felt a little guilt for being so angry. The only appealing quality Ranson had was tremendous speed, but Alistair still should've protected them. Because that backhand could've been a knife. And Alfred could've been dead. Arthur made sure Alistair realized that.

Not that he beat him, or anything like that. That was something Arthur would refuse to do. He would never lay a harmful hand on his crew unless they were a traitor, or a threat to his sons. Examples, Thomas and Quentin were traitors. Ludwig lied about where the boys were. But Alistair wasn't a threat to anyone besides common enemies. Arthur knew that Alistair didn't let it happen, he just wasn't quick enough to stop it. It surprised Arthur just as much as it did everyone else on the ship, which is why he felt some guilt after yelling, and lecturing at Alistair.

And even though Arthur was still mad, Alistair gave his apologies to both him and Alfred. He was up in the nest, and wasn't bickering with Arthur like they usually do. He guessed that he and Alistair would have bland, meaningless conversations for about a week, then everything would go back to how it was. Yelling at and insulting each other like brothers.

It was almost night, the boys were on the main deck talking with Kiku. The sunset was beautiful, just like it was everyday. Francis was beside Arthur, and the two stood in silence for hours, until Francis finally broke it.

" _Capitaine,_ may I ask you something?"

"Always, Francis." Arthur replied calmly.

"Why did we kill Ranson and his crew?"

Arthur gave a small smile, "Francis, even though he did fuck up five times, I was going to let him go. But, I told him to get off my ship, and not look at anyone, not at his own crew, my crew, and especially not Alfred or Matthew, or I'd make him pay."

Francis looked puzzled, "And?"

"He glanced at back at my boys…" Arthur looked at Francis, then back to the sea in front of him, "I had to make him pay.

* * *

 **Translations:**

 _ **Capitaine- (French) Captain**_

 _ **Out- (French) Yes**_

 **So these chapters keep getting longer and longer, but I'm okay with it. I've realized that while planning in my head, that long chapters are going to be a newer thing for this fic, so, I'm going to have to get used to it, and so are you, not to sound mean.**

 **This was a fun chapter for me to write, and I enjoyed having a chapter in Matthew's view again.**

 **Yeah that's about it. You know the rule on the whole pirate lingo thingy, if I have something wrong, please let me know in the comments and I will fix it as soon as possible.**

 **~Feliks Out! (^J^)**


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Things had been fairly peaceful lately, which was strange. With everything that had gone on since Arthur's alliances with Elizabeta and Sadik, he had to say he was surprised that it'd been a whole two weeks since anything eventful happened. Sure, he had his raids, stole money and took supplies, but that was normal pirate stuff. Maybe completely obliterating Ranson and his crew finally got his message across that Arthur Kirkland, the captain of _The Raven_ , and the ruler of the seven seas, isn't to be messed with.

 _Like that would ever happen_ , Arthur groaned in his head, rolling his eyes, and slouching over the wheel of the helm. If his life had taught him anything, it's that he's not that lucky. Even with his streak of peace, he had his defenses up. More so than ever, as a matter of fact. He sat up, straightening his posture, and sighing.

At the forecastle deck, he could see Alfred and Matthew training with their daggers, taking swings at one another, and dodging and blocking with perfect skill for their age. Arthur would've yelled down for them to stop, but he trusted them. Within the past two weeks, the boys had been training hard, asking for lessons from him, Francis, Kiku, and Alistair. Their sudden interest sparked up quickly after Ranson and his crew died. It made sense, after Alfred got hit on the face, Arthur could tell that the boy wanted to have greater skill than he already possessed. Matthew, on the other hand, felt guilty. He had told Arthur that he felt like he should've protected Alfred, which wasn't his job, but it was still sweet. Within those two weeks, the boys progressed astonishingly. They ended up training three or four times a day, and were excelling.

"They're doing very well," Kiku praised, standing next to Arthur, and breaking into his thoughts.

"The boys?" Arthur asked, clarifying that's what Kiku was referring to.

Kiku nodded, " _Hai,_ they're learning quickly."

"Well, you helping them out with lessons is making it go faster," Arthur added, "I've been meaning to thank you, Francis, and Alistair."

"It's no problem," Kiku dismissed, "they're fun to be around, and very respectful."

Arthur felt a little pride in the complements toward his sons, as he is the one who raised them to act like that, "Still, though, thank you. You've helped me a lot."

"Seriously, Arthur, Alfred and Matthew aren't that hard to take care of," Kiku replied.

Arthur shook his head, glancing over to his Japanese friend, "I'm not talking just about the boys, I'm talking about everything. You've been a good friend to me since we met, and helped me with all my struggles… Thank you."

Kiku stared at him for a moment, his brown eyes wandering off, "Arthur you're like a brother to me, why wouldn't I help you out when you need it?" He smiled, "I'm glad I was here to help, and thank you for everything over the years, too… And hey," Kiku paused.

"What?" Arthur tilted his head to the side

"Thank you for not making me be your First Mate."

Arthur laughed, leaning forward a bit, "I didn't know that was such a relief for you."

Kiku hesitated, "It's not like I wouldn't have been honored, it's just… I don't feel like I'm cut out for it. Especially if you died and I became captain."

"The tragic part isn't that I died, it's that you became captain, right?" Arthur asked sarcastically.

Kiku kept the joke running, "Of course, who would care if you died?"

"Alfred and Matthew?" Arthur suggested.

"Nope, they said they wished I was their dad." Kiku chuckled, turning and starting to walk away, "I'm going to go grab some lunch, you going to join me?"

Arthur shook his head, "No, go ahead, I'm not that hungry… Oh, and if you see Francis, send him up."

Kiku crossed his arms and faked a scowl, "Why, so you can talk bad behind my back?"

"Yes, I'm going to tell him how much I hate your guts, and my plans on murdering you. I'm sure he'll laugh and want to join in on the fun." Arthur shifted his weight to his right, and stretched his arms. He'd been standing at the helm all day.

"Hey, as long as it's quick, I'm good," Kiku replied over his shoulder, descending the stairs, "I don't care if it's painful, just make it quick."

Arthur relaxed, "I'll keep that in mind."

Kiku chuckled lightly as he continued to the main deck, then headed to the galley. Arthur stared back to his sea, watching its blue-green waves roll. They crashed against his ship, rocking it back and forth rhythmically. It was peaceful for the moment.

Alfred and Matthew, now finished with their sparring match, descended the stairs into the galley, walking slowly and looking pitifully exhausted. Arthur couldn't help but smile pridefully. Though they still had much to learn, and were still very young, those twins were his legacy.

"Captain!" Alistair yelled, a strange fearful tone in his voice, "We're in trouble!"

Arthur knew that his streak of peace would end eventually, but couldn't it last at least a few more days? He slouched a little, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, more annoyed rather than scared. Who would he have to bother with this time? "What is it?"

Alistair paused for a moment, staring through his spyglass, " _The Viking's_ on the horizon, and she's coming in quick!"

" _The Viking_!" Arthur exclaimed, feeling sweat collect on his forehead and the back of his neck. With everything going on, he should've expected bounty hunters to show up eventually, but he didn't think they'd catch up this quickly. Besides, _The Viking_ usually stays further north. Had his price raised that high that they came all the way down?

"How do you want to respond?" Alistair cut into his thoughts.

Arthur considered his options. There was always the option of fighting and sinking the smaller ship that was _The Viking_ , killing the crew and ending the problem forever, or he could attempt to run. The bounty hunter's ship was smaller than his, but had large powerful sails, making itself very fast and distracting. It's canons did considerable damage, but nothing _The Raven_ hadn't taken before. He opened his mouth, planning on ordering to fight, when a quick thought interrupted him.

 _The Viking_ never sailed alone. Never. She _always_ sailed with _General Winter._ The ship had heavy and strong armor, and all its weapons dealt a terrifying amount of damage. One good hit from those cannons could render Arthur's defenses almost completely useless.

"Captain?" Alistair asked desperately.

"Is she alone?" Arthur called, looking up to the fire-haired Scot.

"No, _General Winter_ is with her."

"I'm not risking it," Arthur started, "I'm running… Full sail!" He ordered, turning his ship around, "Get on cannons, Beilschmidts, get on those puckle guns! Alistair, climb down and get the boys to my quarters, and somebody get Bonnefoy up here!"

"I'm right here!" Francis yelled, sprinting up the stairs from below deck, then up to the helm, "What's going on?"

"Kølher's on our arses," Arthur panted, growing more nervous.

"Kølher…" Francis breathed, "The captain of _The Viking?_ "

"Yes, those bloody bounty hunters," Arthur snapped, sounding angrier than he meant, "Can you see them?"

Francis turned and looked behind them, staring for a moment, "They're closing in… We're not going to outrun them."

Arthur knew the Frenchman was right, "We need to try, we can't afford to fight them." Feeling panic rising in his chest, he glanced behind himself, seeing Kølher's ship catching up to them, as Braginsky's lurked in the background like the threat it was.

"Just incapacitate them really quickly," Francis suggested, making it sound easy, "then get the hell out of here."

Arthur shook his head, immediately dismissing the idea, "They're too good at maneuvering, they'll buy enough time for _General Winter_ to get in range."

"Well, if we're in range for them, then aren't they in range for us?" Francis exclaimed quickly, sounding panicked.

"We can't take canonfire like that," Arthur stated firmly, looking over his shoulder, trying to get a visual on Kølher, who was nearly in range, and coming in on portside. "Damnit!" He yelled, expressing his frustration and fear. So many worst-case scenarios sped through his mind, making him consider just turning himself in so no one would get hurt. He had a high price on his head, and that's what they were here for. But he couldn't give up without a fight. He was Captain Arthur Kirkland after all. They might be Kølher and Braginsky, but he was a _Kirkland._

Kølher was in range, too close for comfort. There was no way he would outrun _The Viking_ now, so he delivered the first shot, "Fire port canons!" He bellowed, straightening out his ship, and getting in the best position for the attack. The bounty hunter seemed taken by surprise at the sudden switch from retreat to aggression, however they still ended up dodging most of the cannonfire. Only a few cannonballs actually made contact. Arthur actually growled in anger, realigning his ship, aiming the front cannons at the bounty hunters, then giving the order to fire. Miss.

He ground his teeth, turning his ship away from Kølher's, trying to take this chance of distraction to escape. No such luck. Kølher quickly caught back up, and fired his cannons, hitting the back of _The Raven_ , the impact causing Arthur to stumble, "Jackass!" He cursed at the bounty hunter, who swung around on portside, Arthur ordering another fire, the cannonballs making better contact this time.

Beside him, the puckle guns fired loudly, though it didn't distract him, he was too used to the sound. Out of nowhere, an arrow flew past his face, missing him. Arthur was about to mock the archer's inability to hit him, until he heard a loud yell of pain to his left. He turned his head to Gilbert, seeing him collapse to the floorboards, an arrow sticking out of his right shoulder. He hissed in pain, holding the wound with his left hand.

Seeing Ludwig turn and go running to his brother, Arthur stopped him, "Beilschmidt, stay on that gun!"

" _Ja,_ Captain," Arthur heard Gilbert grunt as Ludwig reluctantly complied.

"No, Gilbert stay down, I wasn't talking to you." Arthur ordered lightly, trying not to yell at him.

So they had a sniper, and by the looks of it, they had a good one. Arthur sighed, giving another order to fire starboard cannons, making better contact on the other ship. However, three of the men on his cannons were shot dead with arrows. This sniper was a pain in the ass.

"Somebody get that sniper!" Arthur shouted to the entire crew, seeing Kiku pick up a rifle, and begin firing.

As the two ships passed each other, Arthur laid eyes on the archer. He was high up in the ratlines of _The Viking_ , his legs tangled in the ropes, providing him enough support while leaving his arms free. An arrow went flying toward Kiku, barely missing him, and hitting Alistair in the hip, who was standing right beside him. The Scot fell to the floorboards with a grunt, but stood back up, limping heavily, and continuing to load cannons.

"Fire port cannons!" Arthur ordered again, spinning the wheel of the helm, changing the direction of the ship. An arrow shot between the pegs and got stuck on the railing in front of him, blocking the wheel from turning in either direction. When the cannons fired, his ship hadn't turned enough to land a direct hit, so it missed completely.

"Well fuck!" Arthur yelled, failing to pull the arrow out of the railing.

"Wait, wait," Francis said quickly, grabbing the wheel and pulling it towards him, "push it, and break the arrow."

Arthur pushed with all his force and weight, hearing the wood of the arrow crack, split, and finally break. His weight threw him off balance, while the wheel threw the ship off course. "Goddamnit, it's like they're playing with us." He panted, realigning the ship in the direction he wanted. He shook his head, "Somebody kill that sniper!"

More gunfire sounded in reply to his order, but nothing hit that damn archer. Arthur clenched his teeth, ordering more cannonfire, but nothing made contact. Again. Alistair drew his attention, opening a bottle of rum, shoving some cloth down the opening, and lighting the end on fire. Arthur had to give the man credit, a molotov was a creative solution to ridding of the sniper.

"Don't miss," Arthur instructed, smiling a little at the creativity.

"Yes sir!" Alistair yelled back, heaving the bottle onto the other ship.

Technically, Alistair didn't miss. He threw the molotov high in the air, above the sniper and hitting the ratlines, which would light the ropes on fire, forcing the sniper to get down or burn. The bottle didn't break on contact, but more bounced off, and fell into the ocean. Arthur sighed in disappointment.

Kølher's ship went off course a bit, giving _The Raven_ more space, and giving Arthur a chance to escape again. The bounty hunters cut them off, keeping them out maneuvered. Arrows flew through the air, but didn't aim at anyone. A few just flew by the sails, then fell into the sea, forgotten.

"What, did he forget where to aim?" Francis asked mockingly.

Arthur didn't like the look of this. This sniper had them distracted, and was picking off his crew one-by-one. He'd already killed five people, two of them being new recruits. Why would the archer suddenly change tactics? Three arrows were shot, one after another. Each of them were flaming, and hit the sails, lighting them on fire.

"How do we put that out?" Arthur whispered, probably not loud enough for even Francis to hear. He was panicking. How would he put that fire out?

More men were shot down, mostly those on cannons. He didn't like it, but he knew what order he had to give, "Francis, you need to get on a cannon."

Francis looked disappointed and stressed, but followed the order, "Yes, sir."

As the Frenchman started to leave, Arthur caught him by the arm, "Don't get shot, got it?"

Francis laughed, "Of course." He turned to leave.

Arthur pulled him back, tightening his grip on his arm, "I'm serious, _don't get shot_."

The long blond smiled at him, "Don't worry, I won't."

Arthur let go of his arm, letting him run down the stairs. He was only a few steps down when a arrow hit his coat, pinning it to the stairs. With a huff, Francis pulled the arrow out of the floorboards. He took only a few more steps when his pant leg was pinned down, making Francis fall on his face with a grunt. He reached for the next arrow when another pinned his sleeve.

Arthur's patience was running thin. Although the sniper was now playing with Francis, it didn't mean that he shouldn't be doing his job. "Get on a cannon!" He yelled, his temper getting the best of him.

Pulling another arrow out of his coat, Francis replied, "I can't, _Capitaine!_ "

Arthur cocked his jaw to the side, closing his eyes for a brief moment, making that second of peace feel like forever. The world seemed to silence just for that insignificant second. All that archer was doing was distracting him, he needed to focus. He needed to incapacitate _The Viking_ before _General Winter_ caught up.

He opened his eyes, spinning the wheel of his ship to the right, calling out, "Brace!" After just a few heartbeats, his ship smashed into Kølher's, his battering ram doing a great deal of damage to the bounty hunter, throwing the sniper off the ratlines, and into the deadly waters below.

Rapidly turning the wheel again, he managed to pull away from the other ship, ordereing cannonfire. Every cannonball made close-range, powerful contact, splintering the wood of _The Viking._ Arthur just hoped it was enough to incapacitate them, or at least slow them down.

Finally seeming safe, Arthur started to retreat with his burning sails, hoping to God, something he doesn't even believe in, that they can get him far enough away to outrun Braginsky. No such luck.

Arthur heard a deep _boom_ from behind him. He turned his head, watching as cannonfire from _General Winter_ soared through the air, leaving a trail of smoke behind them. There were a few seconds of ominous silence before they pounded into the side of _The Raven_ , cracking it's wood and armor. Arthur closed his eyes and grit his teeth, hating the sound of his ship being as damaged as it was.

"Those were my quarters…" Francis whined from the main deck, throwing his arms in the air.

Arthur shot him a glance, but didn't reply. He was in the middle of internally panicking, he was a bit distracted at the moment.

"Captain, are you going to get us out of here or what?" Alistair shouted at him, pulling him back into reality.

Arthur blinked, and turned the ship, trying to make it as hard as possible to hit and catch up with. But with the burning sails, and broken armor, his ship was slower. It was amazing how much damage a single ship could do, and he had to wonder where Braginsky gets his cannons.

Another deep explosion sounded, and cannonballs flew through the air, hitting the side of _The Raven_ again. To his fortune, it wasn't as direct of a hit. "Fire!" Arthur ordered, responding to the aggression with his own attack, knowing that it wouldn't have nearly as much of an impact, but hoping it would slow down the bounty hunter.

He, and most of his crew, were suddenly thrown to the ground with a strong hit. Arthur stood up furiously, glaring at _The Viking_ that had rammed into them then pulled away. Their ship wasn't built for that, and although they had a small battering ram, their armor was too damaged to attack like that, so why did they?

A distraction. Just like everything else they do, it was to distract. As Kølher pulled his ship away and regained distance, Arthur looked to Braginsky, who was also about to use their battering ram against their weaker side. Fear spiking in his chest, Arthur called out an order, trying to turn his ship out of the way, "Brace for impact!"

In his attempt to save his ship and crew from the powerful hit, he didn't manage to brace himself. He was thrown to the ground again, the world around him dimming and falling mute for a few terrifying seconds. Arthur sat up in a semi-unconscious haze. His ears rang, and his head pounded. Unable to completely understand what was happening, he watched ropes fly over the side of the ship, and seeing about six or seven people cross over and engage in battle. Putting a hand to his head, he felt warm blood slip over his fingertips.

"Arthur!" An accented voice to his left called, sounding desperate, "Are you okay?"

Arthur turned his head and blinked at the source. Recognizing the albino as his friend Gilbert, shook his head, trying to regain his grip on reality, "I'm fine," he grunted, feeling pain rush to his bleeding head. He looked around a second time, not only seeing Braginsky's crew on his ship, but now seeing four men of Kølher's crew board as well.

With anger boiling inside him, Arthur drew his cutlass, stood up, stumbled, and continued down the stairs. Sure, he was slightly dizzy, but that didn't matter. He was the most skilled sword fighter, he wouldn't, or couldn't, be beat.

He knew exactly who his quarrel was with. Ivan Braginsky, the Russian captain of _General Winter,_ and the main muscle behind the bounty hunter duo. The man was taller, boader, and stronger than Arthur was, but he didn't care. Braginsky was going to be reminded who owned the seas.

Seeing the bounty hunter fighting Ludwig, and obviously giving him some trouble, Arthur took this as the perfect chance to intervene. This was also convenient for him, for the two were already in front of his quarters, and like always, he would be guarding it.

Arthur jumped into the battle, giving the Russian a flurry of powerful, but quick attacks, making him back away from Ludwig. Braginsky was having trouble keeping up with Arthur's fast advances, but he did manage to keep Arthur from ever landing a direct hit… or any hit for that matter. As the battle went on, Braginsky fought with more ease, actually attacking with his own aggression instead of just blocking.

Their swords clashed hard, Arthur pushing against the other man's superior strength. He wasn't winning this, so realigned his sword, Braginsky's sliding off of his, giving him an opening. Arthur took the chance, aiming for the neck, but the bounty hunter caught him by the arm, twisting it around his back, and making him drop his cutlass. Arthur let out a short call of pain, his shoulder twisting and tensing. He fought against his opponent, but before he could break free he was kicked away and below deck.

Like his head didn't hurt enough.

Disarmed and dizzy, Arthur laid on the floorboards, fighting unconsciousness with all his will. He rubbed his face with his hands, picking up his head, and forcing himself to his knees. The movement slightly nauseated him, but it shouldn't matter. He was a _Kirkland._ Attempting to stand and ascend the stairs, his dizziness increased and he nearly fell back down them. He caught himself by the railing, and sighed. _You're not fit to fight_ , Arthur thought, his eyes closed. But it didn't matter. No matter how unfit he was for battle, he had to continue, not just for his status and act, but for his crew and his boys.

His gaze raised to the top of the stairs, where he saw Braginsky standing still, waiting for him to come back up. Arthur chewed on the inside of his cheek, considering his options. Running up the stairs and forcing himself back into battle with the Russian was a terrible and idiotic idea, that would only end in his loss. He was much too hurt to use brute strength, he needed to outsmart the bounty hunter. Take him by surprise.

No matter how much he hated to admit it, he and Braginsky had very similar qualities. They were both powerful with strong and loyal crews. They were both feared, very rich, stubborn, and arrogant. Arthur, in a sense, needed to figure out how to outsmart himself. At this point, Braginsky and Kølher were outnumbered, the Russian didn't have the time to stand up there and wait, he would eventually have to continue on to a different opponent, and that's when Arthur would have to strike, using stealth. Just to get Braginsky to lose interest...

Arthur fell back down to his knees, pretending that they gave out beneath his weight. Trying not to further his head injury, he fell forward onto his stomach, but kept himself at an angle where he could still see the Russian. Faking unconsciousness isn't something most pirates do, and if he was honest with himself, he didn't expect Braginsky to buy it. But the Russian walked away with a scoff.

Smiling to himself, Arthur stood back up, the world spinning again. He blinked a few times, realigning his sight, then continued to the storage room, where he took an extra cutlass, and headed up the stairs.

Arthur immediately laid eyes on Braginsky, who had now picked a fight with Kiku. A mistake on the Russian's part. Kiku was the fastest swordsman on the ship, and had mastered both offensive and defensive tactics of fighting. Arthur started to head in their direction, trying to take the Russian by surprise and end the fight quickly, but in the corner of his eye, he saw a glint of sunlight reflect off metal, and barely dodged the swing of Kølher's battleaxe.

Matthias Kølher, the Danish captain of _The Viking_ , was a very cocky man. He was an aggressive fighter, and had a powerful weapon. He spun his axe close to both himself and Arthur, trying to distract and draw his attention elsewhere, using the same tactic as he did when piloting his ship.

The axe swung at Arthur's head, and he ducked beneath it, slicing towards the Dane's abdomen, barely missing the strike. He jumped back, trying to keep his distance. Kølher swung his axe around, Arthur blocked a few strikes and dodged a few others, but most of the movements didn't hit him, nor were they meant to. The bounty hunter swept Arthur's leg out from under him in a quick flash of movement, using the staff-end of the battleaxe.

Arthur landed hard on his back, the air being forced from his lungs. He had only a second to wheeze, before rolling out of the way of the axe, that cut through the boards of the main deck, and got stuck. Still out of breath, Arthur climbed to his feet, and put Kølher in a headlock, kicking his knees out from beneath him, and choking him. "You jackass!" He yelled as something seemed to be finally going his way in this battle. Kølher struggled, but Arthur had leverage.

To his left, a man with short, pale blond hair pointed a loaded pistol at Arthur's head. Arthur turned to the left, putting Kølher between the two of them, and hiding his face almost completely behind the Dane's head. No one was good enough of a shot with a pistol to directly hit him without killing the bounty hunter as well.

The man stood still, his hand stable as it held the pistol even with Arthur's forehead. His deep blue stare was cold and emotionless, his eyes narrowed, his hand tightening slightly around the handle, but his finger steered clear of the trigger. Kølher attempted to choke out a few words, so Arthur tightened his arm around the Dane's neck.

The pale blond's eyes shifted ever so slightly to the right, then laid back on him. Arthur, in response, looked to his right, seeing a giant of a man just a few steps away from tackling the two of them. He guessed that hadn't heard him coming through the commotion of the battle. He turned, trying to put Kølher between the two of them, in attempt of relieving himself of the full force of the attack, but he was just a few seconds too late. His attacker, an extremely tall and muscular blond, barreled into him, throwing all three of them to the ground. Just as his luck would allow, both his attacker and Kølher landed on him, slightly crushing him. The back of his head was forced against the floorboards, where he was, again, knocked dizzy.

When the two large bounty hunters got up off of him, Kølher hacked his lungs out and gasped for air, while Arthur rolled onto his side, holding his pounding head. He let out a long groan, his skull feeling like it had split open. Slowly, he opened his eyes, staring out around him. The pale blond who was previously pointing a pistol at him was know with Kølher, obviously making sure he was alright. The tall blond hadn't gotten too far from Arthur, only a few paces away, where he was know helping Braginsky beat down Kiku. Arthur's eyes traveled to Alistair, who was kicked hard in the bleeding and injured hip, then pinned down by a young, long haired woman. Francis, up near at the forecastle deck, getting dangerously close to the bowsprit, was getting tag-teamed by a short blond, who seemed to be doing nothing but distracting, and a tall brunette, who seemed to have a similar fighting style as the Frenchman. Ludwig, and surprisingly Gilbert, were fighting together, trying to fend off a younger man, looking about the same age as Li Xiao, and another blond man, about Gilbert's height.

Everything was going to hell. They were losing. Horribly. There had to be some way to settle this, end it before anyone else died. Arthur hated the idea, but he had to turn himself in. They were here for him, he had a high price on his head, which is why he wasn't currently dead. If he wanted everyone who was currently still alive to stay that way, he _had_ to turn himself in.

To Arthur's rage, he saw a single arrow soar through the air, hitting Kiku directly in the collarbone. The Japanese man called out in pain, distracting him so Braginsky could give him a potentially fatal blow, cutting him deep in the ribcage and across the chest. Kiku fell hard to the ground, screaming and holding the gaping wounds.

Arthur, drawing strength from his anger, stood, then fell, his dizziness keeping him from going anywhere. He sat up, giving the movement another go, but the barrel of a pistol was pressed against his forehead.

"I'll actually shoot this time… Stay down." The pale blond hissed, his cold stare feeling like ice.

Arthur met eye contact, or at least what he thought was eye contact. He was seeing doubles, "No you wouldn't, I'm worth too much alive."

" _Stay down,_ " The bounty hunter hissed harshly, his deep blue eyes narrowing in aggression.

Arthur gave another glance to his crew. Most were pinned and hurt. Francis was now disarmed and cornered. He let out a quick huff, "Fine." He adjusted to a kneeling position.

"What?" Francis immediately exclaimed in protest, "You can't be serious!"

Arthur dismissed the Frenchman with a slight wave of his hand. He paused before he directly spoke to any of the bounty hunters, "What do you want?"

Braginsky chuckled, walking away from Kiku, who was still on the ground groaning in pain, "What do we want? You can't be serious… You do know who we are, right?"

"I'm aware…" Arthur paused, a wave of nausea and head-splitting pain flowing over him, "of… who you are, I'm not stupid," He finished harshly.

"Then I'm sure you know what I want." Braginsky said with a sarcastic smile, "Will you be cooperating, or will we be having a rematch? I have to say, our little quarrel didn't go so well for you last time."

The insult itched under his skin, his pride making him angry, but he didn't have an answer for the Russian. Fighting him again would only end in his loss and further his injuries. However, it didn't feel right just _turning himself in_ , even if it was in better interest of his crew. He sighed, closing his eyes, "I'll cooperate." He hated giving up.

"What?" Francis basically screamed, " _Non, Capitaine,_ you can't just give up!"

Arthur didn't reply, he just kept his eyes closed.

"You're not going to beat him for speaking out against your word?" Braginsky teased.

"For what? I'm a dead man anyway, might as well leave my worthless crew off on a high note… Give them _something_ for them to be grateful for." Arthur grumbled with a roll of his eyes. He really didn't care to act at this moment, but it had become reflex for him over the years.

"I really didn't think you'd care." Braginsky walked closer to him, his purple stare seeming skeptical.

"When facing death, cruel men can turn kind." Arthur half-slurred, not really paying attention to what he was saying.

Braginsky continued to walk around the ship like he owned it. He would step close to members of Arthur's crew in a non-aggressive manner every now and then. It seemed like he was observing them in a way a doctor observes a patient. "How long have you been speculating your death, Captain Kirkland?"

Arthur narrowed his eyes, not completely understanding the question, "What…" he paused, trying to figure out the rest of his sentence, "what do you… mean?"

For some odd reason, the Russian laughed, "What are you, drunk? I can barely understand a word you're saying, you're slurring so bad."

"I…" Arthur trailed off, blinking and nearly falling forward, "yes, I-I'm drunk." _It may be punch-drunk, but drunk is still drunk_ , he added in his head.

"I will repeat my question for you then, a lot slower this time," Braginsky replied in an insulting manner, "How long have you been speculating your death?"

"Why do you ask?" Arthur questioned, focusing hard so his words wouldn't slur together.

"Because you say that 'when facing death, cruel men can turn kind...' It seems like you've been awfully nice to your crew lately." The bounty hunter walked back to Arthur and stood, towering over him.

"You really think I'd be kind to those incompetent arseholes?" Arthur exclaimed, "They're lucky that I didn't let you slaughter them!"

Braginsky stared down at him, his face falling into an unamused stare, "Really?" He started cynically, "Then perhaps you wouldn't mind me taking a look?"

"What—?"

"How about Bonnefoy? Feliks, Toris, bring him over." Braginsky ordered, not waiting for Arthur to finish his protest.

Francis struggled against the two men, nearly breaking free a few times. The brunette pushed Francis' rapier sword against his neck, making him stop his resistance. His light blue eyes burned in anger as he glared at Braginsky.

"Calm down," Braginsky said in a strangely soothing tone. He put a finger below Francis' chin, and tilted his head up, causing the Frenchman to fight more, "Bonnefoy, I'm not going to hurt you, you have too high of a price on your head for that," The Russian said sounding bored.

"Francis, just… calm down," Arthur ordered slowly and quietly.

Francis stared at him for a moment, before he looked back to Braginsky, his body still tense. The Russian looked him up and down, taking off Francis' coat, and inspecting his bare arms. The Frenchman looked confused, but he didn't fight back. After a few moments, Braginsky turned away from Arthur's First Mate, and walked back over.

"So, for being as abusive as you are, he really does lack bruises." Braginsky reported, looking Arthur in the eye.

"He's been behaving," Arthur slurred, putting a hand to the back of his aching head, "I haven't had a need to… to beat him."

Braginsky crossed his arms, "Uh-huh… Well, who doesn't behave?"

"Why do you even care?" Kølher rasped, rubbing his throat with his left hand. He paused to cough, "Let's just take them and go."

Braginsky stepped closer to the Dane, speaking low in his ear. Kølher went to argue back, but he broke into a coughing fit. After Kølher calmed down, the two continued arguing. Arthur closed his eyes, trying to relieve himself of the immense pain in his head, but was interrupted after a few moments of darkness, when he caught himself from falling forward. He blinked, attempting to push away strong feeling of nausea and dizziness, but it was to no avail.

"What is this all about?" Arthur grumbled, growing impatient with the bounty hunters, who seemed like they were ignoring his question. Arthur didn't have the energy to yell or threaten them, not that his threats would be very intimidating at this moment anyway. He slouched in his kneeling position, lowering his hands to the sides of his head, and rubbing his temples.

"Kirkland," Braginsky started, sounding irritated, "who on this ship doesn't behave?"

Arthur understood and heard the question, he just didn't know why it was relevant. Before he could reply, Gilbert did, "That would be me," the Prussian spoke up, raising his left hand slightly. Arthur turned his head and stared at him. Even with his blurred vision, Arthur could tell Gilbert was pale, covered in blood, and in pain. He was sitting on the first stair that lead to the helm, slouching as he leaned against the railing to the side.

Braginsky apparently has some sense kindness because he walked over to Gilbert instead of having him escorted over. However, Ludwig stepped into the Russian's path, blocking it. He held his sword steadily, and his eyes burning in anger.

"Luddy," Gilbert said quietly, before continuing, "he's fine, stand down."

Ludwig turned and looked back at Gilbert, before he reluctantly complied with a sigh, taking only a few steps away, still holding onto his sword. Braginsky knelt beside Gilbert, inspecting him also, looking mostly at his face, and gently turning his head from side to side. He unbuttoned the Prussian's shirt, being careful of the wound on his shoulder, then closed it after a short glance.

Braginsky stood and turned back to Arthur, crossing his arms as he strolled over casually, "I will repeat myself when I say that for being as abusive as you are, he really does lack bruises."

"What are you trying to prove here?" Arthur snapped, trying to get Braginsky to reveal his point.

A smile pulled at the Russian's lips, "You've gone soft."

"What?" Arthur exclaimed, further irritating his migraine, "I have _not_ gone soft!"

Braginsky shrugged, "You've either gone soft, or you're just a liar."

"I'm not…" Arthur trailed off, realizing that there was no way to save himself this time. The evidence was all in front of the Russian, not one man on his ship had even a papercut that was given to them by him, Arthur _Kirkland_ , an "abusive" captain. This could mean trouble, lots of trouble. He blinked, ran his tongue over his front teeth, and continued, "How can I keep your mouth shut?"

"Well, you don't have much to worry about, you and Bonnefoy still have a one-way ticket to the gallows, so…" Captain Braginsky replied, not really answering Arthur's question, "you don't really have to worry about anyone finding out, you'll be dead."

Arthur didn't waste a second, "How much did they pay you?"

"What?"

"Your client," Arthur clarified, "how much did they offer?"

Braginsky rolled his purple eyes, "Twenty-five thousand."

"I can double it." Arthur offered, attempting to barter for his life. Being the feared and powerful pirate that he was, he never thought he'd become this petty, but survival was important. He had two sons to raise.

Braginsky only replied with another offer, "Quadruple."

"Triple."

"No, no, no," Kølher but in, shaking his head, "triple isn't enough."

"That is seventy-five thousand." Braginsky commented.

Kølher angrily gestured to the half-destroyed ship, "Look at what _he_ did to my _Viking!_ Tino almost died!" He exclaimed, "Seventy-five isn't nearly enough!"

"We don't have that much." Arthur said desperately.

Braginsky shrugged, "Then there's nothing we can do."

Arthur hurriedly searched his mind, trying to come up with some other solution to his problem. He glanced at _The Viking_ a few times, seeing that its partial destruction was the source of Kølher's rage. There had to be something he could offer, "We'll… I'll pay for an estimate on the ship."

"I can estimate it myself, _thank you_ ," Kølher spat bitterly.

"No, no, that's not what I'm saying," Arthur replied quickly, "I'll have my carpenters take a look at it, and I'll pay you enough money for repairs."

Kølher narrowed his eyes, adjusting the battleaxe in his hands. "Just give us the supplies for repairs then."

Arthur shook his head, causing his stomach to wrench, and almost throw up, "I... can't spare my supplies, we have our own repairs to make."

There was a long pause in the conversation, which surprised him. Braginsky was obviously willing to barter, but Kølher had given the impression that he definitely was not. Although still fuming, his gaze bounced between pale blond haired man, and Braginsky. The pale blond started speaking a different language in a hushed tone. Arthur wasn't knowledgeable of the language that the two were now speaking, but probably would've at least recognized it if his headache and nausea weren't ailing his cognition as much as it was.

After Kølher was finished speaking with the blond, he and Braginsky took a few steps away and also discussed the topic. Only a few moments passed before the team of bounty hunters made up their minds.

"We will take the offer," Braginsky said, clasping his hands behind his back in a prideful manner, "we cannot promise that we will not run into each other again, Kirkland, there are many people out there that want to see you hanging from a rope… You are safe for now, though." Braginsky paused, but before Arthur could reply, he brought up another point, "We also cannot promise to keep what's in your quarters a secret."

Arthur's heart rate spiked, "You know what's in my quarters?" He growled slowly, panic rising in his chest.

"Well, not _exactly_ ," The Russian emphasized, "but everyone knows that you protect the door to your quarters… There's something important and highly valuable in there, and we can't promise to keep our lips sealed."

Relief washed over him. They didn't know about the boys, or at least not completely. If their client was given a tip to separate him from his quarters, then the public would know, but until then, he had nothing to worry about.

Arthur rolled his eyes, pretending to shrug off the threat, "Everyone knows that a pirate's most prized possession is in their quarters, that's no secret." He quickly changed the subject, "I will retrieve your payment… Please allow my First Mate to accompany me?"

"Sure," Kølher grumbled, still seeming unhappy with the barter.

Francis started to hurry over, but Arthur didn't wait for him. He stepped carefully and slowly, the sway of the ship seeming more significant than usual. He placed his hand over the handle of his quarters, but didn't turn it. This would be the first and only time he'd entered his quarters with an enemy on his ship. Sure, they were behind a closed door, but what if Braginsky or Kølher saw the boys when he slipped in? With a quick breath, he opened the door just far enough for him to squeeze in.

Yao greeted him, unsheathing his sword, before stopping when he realized who it was. Francis slipped in behind Arthur as well, and closed the door. Without addressing Yao, or either one of the boys, the strode to his desk, and plopped down in his chair, and slouched. He put a hand to his head, rubbing it gingerly.

"Francis, can you get the money? I can't see straight." He slurred.

"What?" Francis asked, tilting his head in concern.

Arthur dropped his hand from his head, and into his lap, "The money," he emphasized, "can you get it? I…" He trailed off, not finishing his statement.

"Of course…" Francis paused, "Are you alright?"

Arthur shook his head, but replied with, "Yes."

"After they leave, I'm having Ludwig look at you, you're not well at all." Francis stated.

"Only after he tends to Kiku and Gilbert… They're not dying because of my headache."

"Uncle Kiku and Gilbert are dying?" Alfred exclaimed loudly.

Arthur sat up, "Hush, there are still enemies on our ship…" He closed his eyes with a sigh, "Kiku and Gilbert are hurt, but they're going to be fine."

"What's going on?" Matthew wondered quietly, jumping up onto Arthur's desk and sitting on it.

"Bounty hunters," Arthur groaned, "they boarded our ship, we're paying them off."

"Paying them off?" Alfred asked.

"Well, since I am wanted, they were hired to capture me and turn me into the authorities or the navy or something…" Arthur stopped, trying to figure out where he was going with his statement. He had a reason for saying it, but as he went on, he had forgotten his point. He glanced back to Alfred, "What was your question again?"

Alfred was quiet for a long moment before he repeated his question, "What do you mean by 'paying them off?'"

"Right," Arthur recalled, "instead of letting them capture me and Francis, we're paying them more money than their client had offered them to 'arrest' us."

"Oh, okay. That's good that you're paying them off— oh my God, Dad, are you bleeding?" Alfred basically yelled.

"Hush," Arthur repeated, "you can't be heard, remember?"

"Dad, you're bleeding," Matthew said, pointing out the obvious, "we should get Ludwig."

Arthur dismissed them with a wave of his hand, "Yes, I'm bleeding, but I'm fine. Ludwig has bigger things to worry about right now. I'll get him when he's done."

To his right, he felt a hand placed gently on his shoulder, "Come on, _Capitaine,_ let's finish this and get them off your ship." Francis instructed kindly.

Arthur sat up with a grunt, rubbing the back of his head as he walked away, "Stay quiet in here." He ordered his sons over his shoulder, the two of them nodding in reply. Francis led them out, both of them slipping through the doorway, and closing the door behind them quickly.

"Here's your money, you can go now." Arthur dismissed irritably, seeing Francis hand over a heavy bag of coins.

Kølher and Braginsky inspected the contents of the bag, making sure that they handed over the correct amount. Arthur was finding it difficult to continue standing, so he made sure Francis stood close, just in case he fell. The setting around him spun slightly, moving back and forth from his quarters causing his dizziness to increase significantly.

The seas must've grown a bit temperamental, as the sway of the ship was even stronger. Either that, or he was swaying back and forth with it. He stumbled to the side but managed to catch himself. A little embarrassed, Arthur put a hand to his forehead, "Well? Are you leaving or…" He didn't finish his sarcastic remark.

Braginsky passed the bag of money over to the tall, long haired brunette to his side, "We'll be getting out of your hair, Kirkland," He hesitated, "see you around."

Arthur didn't reply, he just watched as the bounty hunters finally left, returning back to their respective ships. They started to sail out of sight, when Arthur began wandering over to the edge of his ship, casually at first, but his pace quickened hastily. He braced himself against the side of _The Raven_ , and threw up into the ocean below. He let out a long and loud groan, closing his eyes. "Ludwig…" He whined, hearing his voice quiver.

"Yes?" Ludwig asked carefully, standing beside him and rubbing his back gently.

"Go tend to Kiku, Gilbert, and the rest of the injured… When you're done, I'll be in my quarters."

Ludwig was quiet for a long moment, "Maybe I should tend to you first, Captain, you look… terrible."

Arthur shook his head, making himself dry-heave, "No," he panted, "they're extremely hurt, especially Kiku, Gilbert, and Alistair… Please, go tend to them."

"Yes, sir." Ludwig hesitated before walking off.

Arthur stayed in his position, pitifully hunched over the railing of his ship. He stayed like that for a long moment, allowing himself to wallow in his own agony. He sat up, still bracing himself with his hands, "Francis," he called weakly. The Frenchman hurried over, but Arthur didn't give him a moment to reply, "help me to my hammock."

"Of course," Francis said kindly, helping him walk to his quarters, " as much as I want to, I won't be able to stay in there with you for very long. Kiku isn't in the shape to be ordering people around, and there's only so much Alistair can do right now… I will leave your door open so you can holler if you need anything."

"I understand," Arthur replied, lying down in his hammock, "and thank you."

"It's no trouble," Francis smiled, "and hey, try to stay awake until Ludwig gets a look at you, head injuries are weird."

Arthur nodded, "I'll do my best."

"We can keep him awake," Alfred promised, gesturing to himself and Matthew.

Francis chuckled, "You'll keep an eye on him for me, then?"

"Of course." The twins said simultaneously.

"Alright then," Francis started, "feel better, _Capitaine._ "

Arthur smiled slightly, "I'll definitely try." Francis then jogged away, hurrying out to the crew who was in need of his help, those who survived, that is. Arthur wondered if he ended the fight and offered them money sooner if more would've survived. He didn't have much time to think on it before the boys pulled him into useless and trivial conversations that he could barely pay attention to.

.

The light of the moon poured through the window to his left as he sat alone in his quarters, now at his desk. He shouldn't be up, he hadn't been sleeping well, and after the day he's had, he would definitely need his rest. However he couldn't help but stay up and continue working. A few crewmembers had advised him to go to bed, but he refused. He was much too busy, and way too behind on everything.

The few crewmembers that were still up and patrolling the main deck started speaking loudly to each other. It was all muffled through the wooden walls, but he could've sworn he heard the words "Get the captain."

Only a few moments passed before his door opened without a single knock. "Hey bastard," Lovino growled.

Antonio sighed, dipping his head, "Lovino," he said calmly, "what did I say about knocking on my door?"

Lovino glared at him before he pounded his fist on the open door, "There, I knocked, are you fucking happy now?"

Antonio pinched the bridge of his nose, deciding to ignore the aggressively sarcastic question, "What is it, Vargas?"

"Hey, don't Vargas me, I know what that means, you're calling me an asshole!"

Antonio raised his eyebrows and looked to the ceiling in exhaustion, "Are you going to get to the part where you tell me what's going on, or do I have to go ask somebody else? My patience is a little short right now."

Lovino grumbled something under his breath that Antonio couldn't make out. "Braginsky and Kølher are here."

Antonio stood excitedly, "Why didn't you tell me?" He rushed out of his quarters to greet the bounty hunters that they had hired a few weeks ago. Ivan Braginsky and Matthias Kølher, along with both of their First Mates, Toris Laurinaitis and Lukas Bondevik, stood on the main deck. The four looked tired, and their ships both looked battle-torn. However, there were two things missing to the picture. Arthur Kirkland and Francis Bonnefoy.

"Where are they?" Antonio asked, somewhat accusingly.

"Captain Carriedo," Braginsky started in a kind tone, "we appreciate your offer, but we got a better one."

Antonio narrowed his eyes, "What do you mean?"

Kølher stepped in, gesturing as he spoke, "You offered the two of us twenty-five thousand, well… Kirkland tripled your offer, and everyone know's what a bounty hunter's true love is."

Lovino crossed his arms, making his naval badges reflect the moonlight, "What the fuck? We had a deal!"

"They made a better one." Braginsky shrugged like it was obvious. He leaned forward, "Unless you can make an even better one?"

Antonio shook his head, "No, that was our best offer."

"Is the Spanish Navy really that broke?" Kølher laughed.

Antonio's smile dropped, "Is there any other reason you are here?"

"Actually, yes," Braginsky started, raising his right index finger in a matter-of-fact way, "although Kirkland gave us a lot of money, he also nearly destroyed Kølher's ship, so we're not the happiest with him. We can give you his general location, and some other useful information, for the right price."

"You double crossers have enough money, we can find that bastard on our own, _thank you_." Lovino growled in a threatening manner.

Antonio put a hand up, signaling Lovino to back down, not that he listened. Instead of waiting for Lovino to continue his rant, he interrupted, "We don't need Kirkland's location, but what price do you demand for this 'useful information?''

The bounty hunters hummed in unison, "Three hundred?" Kølher offered, raising a blond eyebrow.

"Two hundred." Antonio demanded.

They surprisingly took the offer, "Alright, but you pay in advance." Kølher ordered.

Antonio nodded in agreement, "Lovino, retrieve their payment from my quarters."

"Don't you remember what happened last time we payed in advance?" Lovino reminded bitterly in Spanish, "they turned back on our deal?"

Antonio replied quietly, also in Spanish, "We're also a naval patrol, if they backstab us again, their ships will sink and we arrest the survivors."

Lovino walked away without a reply. Antonio stood with the four bounty hunters in an awkward silence, although it was nice to get out of his stuffy quarters. The breeze was nice, and even a tad chilly.

"Here." Lovino pushed a small box of coins into Braginsky's hands, where he inspected it. After a few heartbeats, the Russian smiled.

"Kirkland's ship is badly damaged. I managed to get a few hits in with my cannons," Braginsky started, "Kølher and I both did significant damage with our battering rams, and his crew suffered many casualties thanks to Matthias' talented sniper."

"So you're saying that now would be a good time to strike?" Antonio attempted to clarify.

Braginsky continued, "That's exactly what I'm saying… Kirkland himself has a bad head injury, though his First Mate is in fair condition."

 _Now would be the perfect time to strike_ , Antonio thought. With his ship damaged, a good quarter of his crew dead, and Kirkland himself injured, the fight would be easy, as long as they could catch up. "Go on," Antonio commanded kindly.

"Well," Kølher started, "this next part isn't completely on topic… When you get him, board his ship. He has something extremely valuable in his quarters."

Antonio's curiosity spiked, "What is it?"

"No one knows, but, even when Kirkland was beaten down and half conscious, he still managed to put himself in between us and that door leading to his room." The Dane explained, "Whatever it is, he'd die before anyone even turns the handle."

Antonio was now glad the spent the money on the information. His superiors probably won't be when they find out, but he could deal with that later. He smiled slightly, knowing that the Spanish would finally get Kirkland. He was weak and vulnerable, all they needed to do is catch up to him. And if _The Raven_ is as damaged as Braginsky and Kølher said it was, then he won't have to worry about catching up. He extended his right hand to shake the bounty hunter's. Sure, the whole ordeal didn't go as originally planned, but this way the Spanish themselves would get the full glory of capturing and killing Captain Arthur Kirkland once and for all. "Thank you," Antonio said gratefully, shaking Braginsky's hand, and then Kølher's.

* * *

 _ **Translations:**_

 _ **Hai (Japanese)- Yes**_

 _ **Capitaine (French) -Captain**_

 ***Nervous laugh* Hey guys, you remember when I said the chapters were going to get longer? XD Well I didn't expect the chapter to be** _ **this**_ **long. Honestly, I've been working on writing description, and this gave a ton of practice, as this chapter is almost all description. When I first started writing this chapter, I knew it was going to be the longest one I have so far, if not the longest in the entire fic, but I didn't think it would be 23 pages (in google docs). Now, I'm sure most of you don't mind, but I feel like this chapter might be a bit too long, but that's my own opinion since I don't have practice writing this long of chapters.**

 **Anyway, I still hope you enjoyed it. In this chapter there were mentions of payments for the bounty hunters. I did as much research as I could for this, but if this is inaccurate please feel free to let me know in comments or PM.**

 **~Feliks Out!**


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